Life a Life so poor and mean A Life so larded with sad grief and pain As if his mortal foe a man would curse All his invention could not wish him worse Then I am now then I am I sad I Who that I may be sadder must not dye Lord how my Sighs with force ingeminate Pump up whole floods of Tears which when I eat Are now the only Sawces to my Meat For from my Eyes these as from Water-spout Like Rain swoln Torrents issue always out Then let me dye O let me quickly dye As others do and not so cruelly Be forc'd thus to survive my Losse and see Under the Heavens no sinful man like me No sinful man no none of all that Race So much opprest as I am none alace Of Heavens foes suffering so much as I Who liv'd by th' Laws and Rules of Piety As I who always studied to shun Those Courses which a many Mortals run As I who always shunn'd to give occasion To my indeed kind God of provocation But now I plainly see my former Zeal And Piety could not with him prevail T' avert this blow no no my clouds of Prayers Are now dissolv'd in deluges of Tears And I must suffer now what never man Endur'd before me since the world began Indeed in th' affluence of my former bless I still would fear this sad Catastasis And these same thoughts did so my Spirit seize As in the night time my o're wearied eyes Had little sleep for I could ne're endure In all my prosp'rous time to live secure As some who on their earthly Blessings rest Which makes me so uneasily dâ—gest My present troubles O then let me dye For since alace my â—eal and Piety My Prayers my Tears my daily Offerings Could not prevent my present Sufferings How should I think they can me extricate Out of this sad and miscrable state Then let me dye O let me dye again I beg it Lord let me be out of pain At any rate let not thy dreadful wrath Deprive me of the benefit of death As it has done of all things here below Nâ— my good God permit it not for so I shall in horrour live and possibly After long sufferings in despair shall dye O let me dye then for thy mercies sake Lord let me dye and force me not to take Those resolutions which some other men Would take if in such misery and pain Burst then poor heart O split burst speedily That I may have the happiness to dye To dye and then I know my Makers wrath For all this will be by my single death Quickly appeas'd and in the grave I shall Rest sweetly free of troubles after all O death what mortal can thy worth esteem Who 's he can thy intrinsick value name All states of life are daily to be sold But thou death art not to be had for gold Though th' world of life but one great mercat be Yet all 's bought up and there 's none left for me But that which even mad men would abhor Then why should I this life keep any more This life this hellish life O now kind death Ease me of this and take my parting Breath Then burst sad heart what cannot all my Art Be able yet to burst one broken heart Yes sure burst quickly let me quickly dye And in this ugly â—â—unghill where I lye Let me be buryed but my Friends take heed My Body with much earth be covered Under a heap of stones lest Labouring Men Digging this Dung hill in the Season when They dung their grounds should find my Carcass here For if uncovered will infect the Air. PART II. Cap. IV. JOB having thus attempted to express That inward grief which did his Soul oppress One of his three Friends Eliphaz by name Did him thus tartly for his passion blame Should we says he with thee expostulate And on the matter enter in debate We see the heat of thy impatience Is such as our discourse may give offâ—nce Yet though thou should st be vext and curse us all As thou hast done thy birth-day nothing shall Make us forget our duty for reprove The errors of a man we so much love We must indeed then pray who can forbear To answer thee when such discourse we hear Of thy great zeal and piety of late Thy grace thy virtue and I know not what By which thou'd make us think forsooth that he Who cannot act unjusâ—ly punish'd thee Without a fault preceeding very fair Pray who with patience can such language hear Should in our hearing one of God complain Unjustly and from answerâ—ng we abstain No no my friend we came not here indeed To hear thee in thy Passions exceed The rage of mad-men or allow thee so To cry and overact a man of woe For shame how mean a thing it is to see Thy mind thus discompos'd that such as thee Whose eminent prudence virtue piety And long experience o' th' worlds vanity We thought had taught thee to know better things That such as thee in foolish murmurings Should bluster thus Thou who didst others in affliction teach How to behave would to them patience preach And how with crosses they should be content Thy self to become thus impatient Thou who in troubles others hast restor'd Canst thou no comfort to thy self afford Others thou'd check when in Adversity As thou dost now they 'd passionately cry And curse their Birth-day as thou now hast done Afflictions at length are come upon Thy self and thou art griev'd it toucheth thee I' th' quick and thou art all in flames we see Where 's now thy fear of God thy confidence In him thy Uprightness thy Patience Where are those Virtues now what are they fled At such time as thou most of them hast need Why should'st my friend like mad-man then cry out In view of all thy Neighbours round about And set out thy condition with such Art As if without cause thou afflicted wer 't Have not thy sins call'd for thy punishment Prethee forbear then this thy vain Complaint Who ever perish'd being Innocent Pray call to mind how thou hast liv'd before As other sinners and complain no more Revise the Annals of thy former time And thou wilt surely find the hidden Crime For which we all of us perceive indeed Thou now art most severely punished Consider this pray and without debate Thou 'lt not so with thy God expostulate He acts according to most upright Laws And punishes no man without a Cause But I 've observ'd that Antecedent sin How slow soever still doth usher in Punishment to it self proportionate Which still attends the sinner soon or late So in his Judgement on his sins may read And see the Cause from whence his woes proceed For I have often seen that such as Plow Your heathy Ground and corrupt Seed do Sow For all their Labours when their Harvest came They'd Reap no other but the very same Vain men who
seem to represent In all his actings something of a Saint Yet then he cryes then he repines a main Then he complaines of poverty and pain O then he railes upon that providence Which was in former times his sole defence For now all sorrow wrath and desperation He thinks on nothing less then restauration Whereas before he thought he was so sure His wealth to generations would endure Well I have seen some Gallant in his pride Inâ—ulsly laugh at all the world beside Fix'd and firme-rooted as he did suppose And proof against the batterie of his foes When on a suddain providence would frowne And this same fool would tumble headlong down With all his sins about him in a tryce Kill'd by the fall from glories precipice Then would I say this man deservedly Doth fall and with him all his family Is levelled with dust because he did In such vain transitory things conside For by fair justice he shall be destroy'd And all his unjust purchases made voide Then after he has justly forfeit all He without pity shall most justly fall Those who are hungry shall eat up his grain And reap the profit of his nine Months pain Nay they shall sweep his grounds and fields so clean As his poor children shall find nought to glean The thirsty travellers who for rain doth gape Shall drink up all the substance of his grape For thou must know afflictions do not come By accident as is suppos'd by some On any man nor do Heavens noble laws Allow that any one without a cause Should suffer punishment no not at all There 's no such thing as that you fortune call 'T is a meer notion a device of men To palliate their sins and entertain A proud opinion of their innocence And lay the blame of all on Providence Which they call fortune and conclude from thence When any are afflicted at the rate As thou art now that they 're unfortunate Unlucky and I know not what alace Why should we with such sopperies as these Abuse our selves when certainly we know Who know there is a God things are not so But that our God doth formally arraigne For every sin convict and punish men Then know That no affliction comes by accident But that all Judgements to our doors are sent By rule of Heavens Court where information Is made and prov'd preceeding condemnation Besides as sparks by nature upwards fly So man to sorrows born doth live and dye In a continued sweat of toyle and care With dregs of anger for his daily fare Tortures of mind and body all at once Do suck the marrow from his very bones Nor can he pleasure to himself project Or joy and comfort in this earth expect Were I then in thy lamentable case I 'd not repine but humblie make address To my good God from him I would demand A patient mind and learn to understand From whence such floods of evils do proceed And in my sorrows I my sins would read To him alone my self I would apply To whom the world belongs who sits on High To whom all Creatures in subjection are Whose Jurisdiction doth exceed by far All Powers on Earth who things unsearchable Performes of which we are not capable To give a Judgement things beyond our reach Things which to act no humane Art can Teach 'T is he who makes the Rain from Clouds to fall By which the Earth made pregnant yeelds us all Our Hearts can wish affords us dayly Bread Drink Cloaths and Med'cine and what else we need For Maintnance of that Fabrick which he fram'd To Lodge the Soul and it the Body nam'd The Body O a thing most excellent For whose Subsistence we should even torment Our Souls a very precious thing indeed That on the Labours of the Soul should feed The Body a meer piece of useful Dust Demis'd for some time to the Soul in Trust. Though for its use the too kind Soul at best Payes a severe and dreadful Interest Whilst to afford it pleasure legally It forfaults its own true Felicity What is 't we hugg then what do we esteem A dying thing which scarce deserves a name A thing so long as Soul doth it inspire Moves for a time like Puppet on a Wyre That gone it moves it prats it squeeks no more But a dull piece of Clay as 't was before Breathless and Sapless on the Ground it lies Yet in its Fall its Maker glorifies As well as in its Frame because from thence We learn what Honour and Obedience We owe to him who this fair Fabrick raises And by a Breath destroyes it when he pleases Besides who 'd not in Duty be exact When still before his Eyes he sees the Rack The Axe the Gibbet and in Mind doth feel Sad apprehensions of the dreadful Wheel Is not our case the same do we not see How many thousand Shapes of Death there be Dayly presented to our view to show That after all all to the Grave must go From this fair Topick let us argue then He is our God and we poor sinful men Therefore since to him we owe Life and Breath We should live well that when invading Death Approaches he may find us on our Guard Not by his gastly looks to be out-dar'd For though he seize the Body yet on high The Soul shall live to perpetuity 'T is he the mighty God 't is he alone Who in the Heavens has set up his Throne From whence he orders all things and doth raise This man to honours and that man debase That to th' afflicted he may comfort give And make those whom the world abhorreth live The subtile plottings of our knowing men He disappoints and makes their projects vain He laughs at all their consults and despises Both them and all their silly state devises So that what e're those Crocodiles project Their Machinations never take effect He spoiles their counsels and makes all their wit Like salt whose savour's lost down-right unfit For any thing save at a round of Ale To be the subject of some Country tale For the Worlds wisdom in Gods eyes is folly Their Art but th' product of dull Melancholly Their reasoning is notional and vain Erring in things even evident and plain Things manifest things clear as noon-tide-light To them are dark as to one in the night Who nothing sees gropes but no rode can find And stands confounded betwixt raine and wind Whil'st at each justling shrub his joints do tremble Thinking the Night-thieves round him do assemble Lord what is all we brag of then for what Keep we such toyl on earth is 't only that We may be thought more wise than others are And be esteemed wits 't is very fair A rare designe indeed well worth our pain When after all we learn or can retain All our fine wisdom in Gods eyes is vain For when our Politicians counsel take How they the just and pious man
were known From upright men and so would fain perswade Th' afflicted man that he had merited All he did undergo and with what art On th' other hand he laboured to assert His innocence and without heat or passion Did prove by many a lively demonstration That where mens antecedent sins did call For punishment on earth yet after all Heavens gracious Monarch freely did permit Those men to live and dy as they thought sit Whilst pious men were often visited With sad afflictions and overlaid With plagues and torments and that some of those Whom they call'd sinful suffered many woes Even in this life from whence he did conclude What they affirm'd must not be understood To be a general rule which did admit Of no exception and that all their wit Was mis-imploy'd on such an argument And that they 'd surely fail of their intent If by the threatning of their Eloquence They thought to fright him from his Innocence One might ha' thought I say those learned men Would now no longer labour to maintain A thing not only so ofttimes deny'd But prov'd so learn'dly to be false beside Yet will they not their arguing give o're But still assert as stiffly as before Their former Doctrine for to all was said The Temanite this stubborn answer made Why friend sayes he I have with patience Heard thee descant upon thy Innocence I 've heard thee talk much like those quibbling fools Who for the reputation of their Schools Will upon any subject frame debate And even deny what is homologat By all the knowing World who will assert Falshoid it self t' express their prurient art And argue pro or con on what you will As Juglers shift their Balls to show their skill Nay they 'll not stick to prove by argument That the Sun shines not in the Firmament And by their pestilentious parts are able To make all things created disputable So thou to show thy wit art not asham'd T' affirm such things as ought not to be nam'd Thou tell'st us thou art pure and innocent And why should the Almighty thus torment One in the reputation of a Saint I see indeed thou fain wouldst us perswade 'T is not for sin that thou art punished No not at all for thou insistest much That thou art just and always hast been such Even in the hight of thy prosperity And still abhoredst all impiety And being yet such in thine own conceit At least why thy Creator doth think fit T' afflict a man pure just and innocent Only to try a new experiment That he may know how good men will behave Under his Rod not that men should conceive That all afflictions are th'reward of Sin No by no means for if they should begin To entertain such thoughts they might conclude The very Saints cannot be understood To have been just since none ere suffered In all the world more sorrows than they did And then demandst us if God punish none As we affirm but sinful men alone Why do these wretches who in sin abound Flourish on Earth why are so many found Guilty of Sin and yet not punished Why here 's a contradiction indeed Sayst thou a Riddle which I cannot read This is thy Doctrine in this error thou Endeavourest to maintain with much adoe Thy innocence but trust me 't is in vain For we perceive how evident and plain Thy misdemeanours are For even in this that thou so frequently Valuest thy self upon thy Piety And boast est so much of thy righteousness Thou sin'st though there were no more in the case For I do lay it as a principle Beyond all question most infallible That let a man be never so devout Zealous and just in heart it booteth not For this to God no profit doth afford It yields him no advantage in a word All we can do all that our hearts are able To muster out is no wayes profitable To our great God for let us fast and pray Let us give alms and labour every day By all the lawful means which mortals use To make their Court with Heav'n we but abuse Our judgements if by these we do suppose To merit favour of him for God knows When we have labour'd and done all we can To serve our Maker be perform'd by man Yet one with reason may us freely call Unprofitable servants after all For 't is not so with God as 't is with men Where one by parts and prudence may attain To profit and enrich his mind with all The Revenues of what we knowledge call Or feast his Soul with Heavenly Contemplations And frequently imploy in Meditations His heart with pleasure and so happily Improve the noble art of Piety No no all these God values not a whit Of all our works he maks no benefit Then what avails it for a man to boast Of what God doth not value what at most Yields but some profit to himself and so I must with calmness tell thee that although Thou wert ev'n such as thou pretendst to be Just Upright Zealous and from Errors free As we conceive thou are not yet alace Thus to brag of it as a great trespass Next then my friend as he who sits on hie Reaps no advantage by thy Piety So on the other hand I 'd have thee know He fears no hurt from thee nor doth he show Himself offended at thy righteousness As in thy passion thou dost oft express No no mistake it not for certainly God quarrels no man for integrity Nor doth he think it is his interest That such an one as thou should be supprest Lest if perhaps thou shouldst become too wise His Majesty might suffer prejudice By thy practising with his enemies For as th' Almighty doth not apprehend Thy merits to be such as do transcend The power of his reward So fears he not thou wilt become so great But that by his eternal rules of State Though thou shouldst to the Highest pitch attain In power with him can be acquir'd by men Yet he with ease can take thee down again Since then for what is good we plainly see The God of Justice doth not punish thee Nor any man because his upright Laws Ordain that no man should without a cause Be punished why sure we must conclude These thy afflictions must be understood Either to be thy punishment for sin Or else for nothing And how absurd it were for one t' assert I'th'least the verity of the latter part Of this alternative I freely leave it To th' judgement of good men but I conceive it To be an error of so deep a dye As falls within the verge of blasphemy And now dear Friend at length I must be free And tell thee out what are my thoughts of thee Since thou wert pleas'd to say that all this time We spar'd thy person and reprov'd thy Crime 'T is true indeed in pity of thy case We did forbear to tell thee in thy face Thou wer 't the unjust man whom
noise thus cry and howl And in his anger tear his very Soul As thou dost now thy self in wrath expresse As though thou were 't first Martyr in the case How from my Soul do I commiserat A man in such a sad distracted state Why dost thou think but other men as well As thou my friend the same afflictions feel Thy case indeed is no ways singular Nor are thy sufferings extraordinar Then why my friend art thou become so vain To think thou shouldst not feel what other men As good as thee do dayly undergo And make not half this noise of it if so I do with sorrow look upon thy state And think indeed it is more desperate Then that of those shut up in Hospitals For most of these have lucid intervals But thou hast none their fury may be tam'd By strength of Medicine and they reclaim'd By time to their own wits thine doth encrease And seems to be a madness in excess Thy fury seizes on thee more and more Beyond the approved cure of Hallâ—bore For thou dost think that God to favour thee Should alter his established decree And even be pleas'd on thy account to change The so well ordred course of Nature strange That any mortal man endu'd with reason Should dar to hatch within his breast such treason Against Heavens King dost think that God will make The lofty Rocks within their Sockets shake Or mash the Frame of Nature for thy sake Dost think he 'll make the Earth turn desolate To complement thee in thy sad estate Or make Men Beasts Birds Fishes in the Sea Endure the same afflictions with thee That the whole Universe from Pole to Pole Might with one voice thy miseries condole Alace my friend thou rav'st thou rav'st indeed If thou foment such fancies pray take heed What thou dost think at least what thou dost speak For thy expressions show thy judgement weak And which is yet a sign more evident Of thy distemper and an argument Of thy disordred mind with confidence Because we seem to doubt thy innocence Thou calls't us fools and dunces which implyes As much as thou think'st thou art hugely wise Whilst all wise men conclude without debate That every man wise in his own conceit Iâ— but a fool of which alace I see A too true demonstration in thee And therefore with more reason I 'd request Then thou hast us thou would not speak at least For in this troubled state I 'd thee advise To hold thy peace and we shall think thee wise At least as we have heard with patience All thy discourse and taken no offence At thy injurious words so thou wouldst hear What I intend to speak which though I fear Will quadrat too much with thy case yet I With all discretion shall forbear t' apply But only shall endeavour to expresse In a few words wy judgement on the case I see my friend then though thou still dost plead Not guilty yet a man may plainly read In thy afflictions what 's the cause of all Thy miseries which I do freely call Thy crying sins thy unjust dealings hence Those woes from these thy sufferings commence Thy judgements clearly do thy sins expresse To all of us though thou wilt not confesse But cunningly wouldst still plead innocent And truly there 's no greater argument Of guilt then still denying when impeach'd But for all thy defences God has reach'd Thee in his justice and has punish'd thee For thy foul sins in manner as we see Now as in wrath our God is formidable So all his orders are inviolable He lets the wicked man in villany Proceed and flourish undisturbedly For a long time until he doth attain To the full Zenith of his joyes and then He draws the Reins and doth his pride compesce In the bright noon-tide of his happinesse So from his earthly glory in a tryce He tumbles down as from a precipice His radiant lustre shall be no more seen But his great name as though he ne'er had been Shall be raz'd out of the Records of Fame And none shall know he was or whence he came Nay those who knew him in prosperity Shall now abhor his very memory His wealth and power in which he did confide Shall fail him all his arts and tricks beside By which he us'd to couzen other men Shall be most quaintly disappointed then His council shall be overturned all And by his own devices he shall fall The course of life he in this Earth doth steer Shall be like Ships 'mongst shelves in constant fear With dreadful thoughts he shall be overlaid Of his own shadow he shall be afraid Sad apprehensions shall upon him seize And in his spirits he shall find no ease For when he means by pleasures to divert His sorrows and alleviate his heart By serene thoughts his conscience by and by Shall lay before him his impiety Which shall him also in his sleep affright And steal upon him like a Thief by night Shall apprehend that plots are every where Laid for his life and that men do prepare Actions Indytements Jurors evidence Against him and his frighted conscience Makes him believe that men do ly in wait To catch him and that every man doth hate Both him and all his execrable race And that he 's the discourse of every place When on his pillow he shall lay his head Thinking by sleep from terrors to be freed Then shall fresh terrors like a rapid stream Break in upon his fancy in a dream Then shall he start out of his sleep and call For Sword for Helmet Corslet Shield for all Then sleep again but in a tryce awake And nimbly to his feet himself betake So sleep and wake and wake and sleep by fits All the long night like one out of his wits His Creditors on all his Means shall seize Turn out his Family bring him by degrees To such a sad penurious exigent As he and his shall have no aliment Then wasting sorrow want of sleep and food With all things that to nature are allow'd Shall in his Loines his Body and his Head A complication of diseases breed By which the hateful wretch shall every day In some dark corner rot and pine away Then all his hopes by which he formerly In th' hottest fits of his adversity Would cheer his drooping spirits and recall His almost parting soul then shall they all Abandon him and he shall then appear Upon all hands environed with fear Like a poor Malefactor who has tane His leave of all his friends and with some pain Mounted the Ladder when he looks about Of deaths approach he makes no longer doubt Concluding 'cause attended now by none But th' horrid Executioner alone Sure he must dy for all his hopes are gone Fear while he lives shall dwell within those walls Which his indeed he most unjustly calls Because by fraud and rapine purchased In his own Chamber fear
proclaim Can in his judgements err can any thing Invert the firm Decrees of Heavens King He who himself is Justice can he do What is unjust dost ' think that he 'l allow Vain man t' imagine that he can dispense With what injustice is in any Sense Dost think he can be Brib'd as dayly here Our Judges are either by Hope or Fear With all th' efforts of humane Art and Skill T' alter th' Eternal Purpose of his Will Why if thy Children did their God offend And for their sins were brought t' untimely end Why dost ' regrate the loss so bitterly Of those who for their Crimes deserv'd to dye No sure thou shouldst not such thy Children call But rather take example by their Fall T' abstain from sin and not provoke the Wrath Of him who in his Hand has Life and Death Yet if thou 'lt call on God and earnestlie Implore assistance from his Majesty If with a heart and hands uplifted thou Humbly before thy great Creator bow If with a cordial true sincerity Thou to thy Maker dost thy self apply Then will he hear thy Pray'r and after all What now thou dost most grievous Torments call He 'l re-establish thee and make thee see How much for all thy Plagues he valueth thee He 'l blesse thy dwelling House with Righteousness And ' crown thy Life with Honour Wealth and Peace Nay tho thou now dost in affliction lye Complaining of thy Pains and Agony Although thy present Case seems to declare No Remedy is left thee but despare Yet shall thy latter end with joyes be bless't And thou of great abundance be possest Now if thou wilt not credit what we say Go too enquire search all Records I pray Dig in the bowels of Antiquity Where Times immense spare-treasury doth ly Where our Creators Glorious Works of old Are to be read in Characters of Gold There shalt thou see what mercies God hath shown To those he loves how much he for his own At all times hath appear'd enquire now pray For truth is we are but of Yesterday Just drop't into the World meer Novices Have no deep thoughts and can at best but guess Men of no reach nor is there time allow'd For us to learn on earth although we wou'd For as a shadow so our years do pass Our Days by time are eaten up like Grass But O let Venerable Antiquity Inform thee plainly how the case doth ly Ask Councel of dead Wise Men in a word Let what those Father 's left upon Record Teach thee let their Authority prevail For what we speak perhaps thou think'st a Tale. Inform thy self then and thou'lt surely find We are thy real Friends and are more kind Than thou imagin'st for we do not mean To flatter thee but hearing thee complain Of thy sad usage as if thou wert one Void of all sin and it could not be known What mov'd our God so sore to punish thee We tell thee we the reason plainly see Sins usher Judgments as the Flames do heat And as when Serpents Mouth and Tail doth meet It makes a Circle so the sin goes round Then meeting with the Judgment doth confound It self with th' substance of that pois'nous thing And so the Sin and Plague make up one Ring In which Ingraven we may plainly read The cause from whence the judgment doth proceed For Sin and Judgment are so link'd together As he who sees the one may see the other Let 's argue then my Friend I do desire Can a Rush grow up where there is no Mire Can Grass unless by water moistened Grow up and with fair Coverlet o're spread Both Hills and Valleys as is daily seen The Grass which withers whilst is yet green It doth require no toil to cut it down For it doth fade before it can be mown Before all other Herbs it withereth For all its Beauty quickly perisheth Such is the case of those who do forget Their God and on vain things their minds do set Of whom I look upon the Hypocrite A creature who it self a Saint doth write Pretending to a singular Purity And gulls the World with show of Piety To be the chief this wretch I do esteem The worst of men not meriting the Name Even of a Moral Man so base a Creature So supercilious of so false a Nature As no man can his word or promise trust An â—bject sinner nothing fram'd of Dust God hates so much and therefore let him Treat His Conscience as he will and basely cheat The credulous World with a Formality God will not suffer such Hypocrisie To flourish long but in a moments space This painted Flower shall wither like the Grass For God shall soon for all his lofty top Dash him to thousand pieces with his hope He 'l disappoint his hateful confidence And cut him off for all his formal sense Those earthly things in which he put his trust Shall in an instant be transform'd to dust Of no more value than a Spiders house To every besome so obnoxious As what appears most neatly wrought to day To morrow is most neatly sweep't away Shall soon perceive the flattering vanity Of such as think t' erect a family On villany and fraud for desolation Is only built on such a weak foundation His out-side piety shall no more prevail For all those cunning Tricks and Arts shall fail By which he did the World abuse his name Shall not be mention'd but with scorn and shame Let him do what he can to magnify The reputation of his Family Let him hoord up his Means in Chests of Iron And round the same with Grats of Brass environ Let him grasp close the things he loves so well And 'mongst his quickly purchas'd Treasures dwell Watching them with great trouble night and day Yet shall those darling Riches fly away But as in view o' th' Sun a tender Tree Still verdant flourisheth although it be Transplanted from one place t' another yet It growes apace and nothing doth abate Of its most pleasant shape and former strength Till it become a lofty pine at length Although its Roots in Earth do scattered lye Like Mettals in the Veins so as no eye Can trace them some about the Fountain wrap't Some close to th' Arbours and the stone-house clap't Yet pluck it up and to another Ground Transplant it as no vestige can be found Of its first seat so that no eye can know Whether a Tree did e're grow there or no. T' will soon shoot up amain and flourish more In that new soile than ere it did before Even so the Godly though it be their case To be transplanted here from place to place Toss'd with afflictions and with sorrows vex't With grief overwhelm'd with poverty perplex't Yet shall they laugh at length whilst others mourn And all their woes shall to their profit turn For God an upright man will not neglect
his Sea-card and his Compass fails Instructs him how to tack and ply his Sails These troops of pointed Lights Heavens numerous Eyes In Packs and Bundles the Almighty tyes Then with his Signet doth those Bundles seal As one doth Wares and merchandize for sale So that their twinkling light appears no more And darkness reigns where Lamps did shine before The Canopy of Heavens he stretches out And makes those Orbs like Whirle-winds roul about This fixed Mass of Earth 't is he alone Directs their Motions and makes every one Of those great Engins in their circles move Some quick some in a course more slow above What human art can imitate 't is he Who walketh on the surface of the Sea Where stoutest Ships like drunken men do reel And forc'd by strength of waves turn up their Keel On those proud billows doth our Mighty God Walk unconcern'd as on a beaten road The Stars in several bodies he doth frame To each of which he gives a proper name Such as Arcturus Orion Pleiades And quarters them through all the Provinces Of his vast Empire where those bodies ly Each settled in its own Locality The standing Forces of Heavens Monarchy Great things he acts O things most admirable Beyond our reach things most innumerable Things which no human Language can express Though every Language doth the same confess Why even those works which daily to our eyes In course are obvious our Capacities By many thousand Stages do transcend Nor can our groping reason comprehend The meanest of his actings or espy This Mighty Monarch when he passeth by And makes his splendid Progress through the Sky Nor can our eyes perceive his Royal Seat Though every day he shows himself in State When this great King would Justice execute What man dares his Authority dispute Who 's he that dares Declinator alledge Against his Court or offer to repledge The highest Prince whom he intends to try Or save his Life whom he commands to dye When he our Goods and Substance doth distrain Who can compel him to restore again What he hath taken who 's that Mortal pray Dares offer to resist his Power or say He does unjustly or in Court dares bring A quo warranto 'gainst this mighty King No all 's in vain no force of Eloquence No Laws no proofs can clear the Innocence Of him whom God condemns no surely he Unhappy Creature who so e're he be After his reasoning praying after all A victim to the Divine wrath must fall Nay you my friends for all your wit and parts Which doth afford you talk though in your hearts You think not what you speak even you must dye When God pronounces Sentence from on high Against you nor will all your Art can say In Rhet ' ricks sweetest flowers procure delay For one small moment no his Sentence must Be execute and you return to Dust. Since you then even with all your Eloquence 'Gainst his Procedure can make no defence Ah how can I a wretch so despicable Void of all Reason Wit and Parts be able To make him answer where shall such as I Find sugred words t' obtain indemnity Nay though perswaded of my innocence Yet 'gainst his Justice I 'de make no defence All he layes to my Charge I would confess And then to his sole Mercy make address I would not plead but say I firmly knew All my Inditement to be simply true And then exibit with great veneration Before my Judge my humble supplication Wherein I 'de ask that he by me would do As he thought fit but if he pleas'd t' allow Some breathing time that I might yet implore Before I trindle hence and be no more His pardon for my sins I 'de only say This favour would oblige me still to pray For should I in this manner supplicat I 'de hope that God would me commiserat 'T is but what he can grant me out of hand Though more than I deserve or dare demand Fools with their Maker do expostulat And think by words themselves to liberat But pious men who better things do know Upon Gods Mercy still themselves do throw For when th' Almighty doth in Judgement sit All that are knowing will to him submit He who to search the Records is inclin'd Of that high Court of Justice soon will find No formal pleadings there no exculpations But only prayers and humble supplications These are the most prevailing arguments With the great Judge o'th'World the glorious Saints When them for Crimes th' Almighty would accuse In all their tryals ne're did other use Now though I know that God doth hear the cry Of those who from the pit of misery Do make address to him and that our Lord In his good time to such will help afford Yet in my present pain and agony I do believe with some difficulty That God will hear my prayer or if he do That he to me such favour will allow As he to others grants since only I Condemned to perpetual misery Can hope for no relief then pray excuse These hot expressions which you hear me use For I 'me undone with grief my case is sad And still oppression makes a wise man mad Like a strong tempest God his wrath lets out Which will at length destroy me without doubt The torrent of his anger swells so high And rushes on my Soul so furiously As all the art of humane patience Cannot resist its force and violence I 'm wounded by the order of his Laws Most justly though as yet I know no cause My plagues and torments sensibly I feel And know the measure of my woes full well But such my dulness is I cannot yet Perceive those ugly sins which did beget Those monstruous Evils of which I complain And call for reparation but in vain For I 'm so 〈◊〉 by that Heavenly wrath As I can find no time to take my breath Continued sorrows do my Soul oppress My Heart is brim-full of sad bitterness But what doth yet encreass my misery To th' utmost is the vast disparity 'Twixt him who doth these ills inflict and me He 's great and I as mean as mean can be And if we speak of strength why th' Lord of Hosts Is strength it self in abstract he who boasts Of any strength valour or gallantry Compar'd with God is but a butter-fly Compar'd with Eagle or a silly Ant In scales with a huge big-bon'd Elephant Talk we of Judgement who shall make address For me and bring me in to plead my case When I appear before his Majesty What shall I say how shall I justifie My actings in this Earth how shall I frame Excuse for what to mention is my shame For if with God I 'd enter in debate And justifie my self at any rate If I desert or innocence would plead Then words which from my own mouth do proceed would prove me guilty and if I but name My uprightness his
Justice will proclaim My misdemeanors and make evident How I in courting sin my time have spent Nay though I were upright yet would I not Desire to live my Soul hath quite forgot Its former kindness to that piece of clay It lov'd so much before and every day Longs to be from its consort separate Whom it doth now with so much reason hate Yet here 's my comfort that I understand My God will punish with impartial hand Both just and unjust and will evidence That 'twixt them both he makes no difference Has no respect for persons no regard For one or other but gives out award In every point as he finds just and layes Every mans Cause in equal ballances In unjust Causes he will none maintain So of Gods Justice no man should complain If in his wrath God should the wicked slay And root them out what could those wretches say Against Gods Justice when their Conscience Assures them he has done them no offence Because Gods Judgements do their sins pursue And punishment t' offenders is as due As Wages to the Labourer for each sin First acts its part then Judgement does begin Where it leaves of and so pursues the Chace Until the breathless sinner end his Race This is his Justice but his Mercie sure Eternal to all ages doth endure Must not our God be full of Clemency When on the wicked even unwillingly He executes his Justice punishment Is long delay'd and vengeance seldom sent 'Gainst any but the stiff impenitent Who at his Judgement doth repine and cry Out upon Gods too great severity Sure that unhappy Creature doth mistake Gods Bounty and his own Condition make Worse than it was intended for we know In Mercy God is quick in anger slow A God of Mercy he himself doth write And so in sinners death takes no delite Far lesse than should the just and innocent Think God takes pleasure in their punishment Nor ought we to repine when we reflect How God the wicked Lords o' th' earth doth make How he puts Pastures Vineyards Houses Lands Power Jurisdiction Honours in their hands By which puff'd up a wanton life they lead Whilst godly men do toil for daily bread Nor how the Judges of the earth abuse Their Sacred Function and their Power do use T' oppress the Just whose eyes with avarice Are sealed up who boldly set a price On Justice and employ their utmost Art To sell the same as in a publick Mart. Who by their Friends use to negotiat For Quotes of Pleas and closely stipulat For so much at the Issue of the cause T' attain which point they cruciat the Laws And make them serve their ends so forcibly As all the world may see their Bribery If we consider how God doth permit Those men to live on earth as they think fit Because they 're none of his and have no share I' th'land of Promise whilst the upright are In sad afflictions toss'd and seem to be O're whelmed by a most impetuous Sea Of miseries wee 'l find these walk i' th'Road Of black Damnation of such Creatures God Doth take no care but le ts them all run wild Like Herds of Asses in the open field But his own Children he doth exercise In a continual tract of miseries That being keep'd in such strict Discipline In a full body they may mount the Line I' th' daily Seige of Heaven and in the end Possess the same only to be attain'd By Sighs and Tears whilst wicked men do run Without all order and so are undone Amidst their pleasures for they do compell Their Souls instead of Heaven to march to Hell Now were it lawful to repine did God Allow to any that do feel the Rod To say that his condition were sad Sure never any Mortal Creature had More cause than I poor wretch have to complain Who 've lost my years and spent my days in vain Swifter than Post my days their course have run That I might be more speedily undone My days are gone my time is vanished My hours are fled my life is finished My wretched life a Scene of woes has been Under the Sun I have small pleasure seen Whilst others of obscure and mean estate To Wealth and Honours have been elevate Their modest parts buoyd up by Friends and Fame Purchassing quickly to those Fools a Name Which impudently they would attribute To their abilities I destitute Of every thing that 's good do silently Spin out my days in grief and penury And as the south wind with a gentle breese Breaths on the verdant Plain and skims the Seas With little noise so I my days have spent My view o' th' world was meerly transient Have you not seen a Vessel under sail Swoln with a stiff but favourable gale Post through the stubborn Seas and make a Line Upon its surface in a foaming brine Or with what wonderful celerity The ravenous Eagle to her prey doth flye So have my days run out so have my years Plough'd through a sea of foaming brinish tears Now should I say I will complain no more But here my exclamations give o're Here to my querullous Notes I 'le put a stop And from this minute I 'le begin to hope Then all my sorrows all my woes and fears Would suddainly appear about my ears With ghastly looks they 'd stare me in the face And in their silence publish my disgrace Because however I my self do vent I know God will not hold me innocent If horrid sins then do my Soul distain Why do I thus excuse my self in vain If to my Maker I have given offence Why should I all this while plead Innocence No sure if things be so all I can say Is to no purpose only I betray My weakness in endeavouring to maintain My just demeanour where my guilt is plain For certainly however I pretend To Piety and Grace yet in the end The great Heart-searcher will make evident That to this minute I my days have spent In wickedness and sin in villany Not to be nam'd in stead of purity And thou O Lord in just conceived rage will Sentence such a Scandal of his age To utmost torment that the world may see How much thou hatest such a one as me Whilst all the Fig-leav'd arguments I use To palliate my sins and make excuse For my false dealings and unrighteousness ' Stead of concealing shall my guilt express For God Almighty's not a man as I'm That I should set my face to 't and defye him When he to Justice doth himself betake That I before my God should answer make An what am I a moulded piece of Dust Consigned to a few years breath in trust Awalking ghost a meer night wanderer Like th' empty figment of some Conjurer That such as I forsooth should undertake Harangues befor the King of Heavens to make And argue for my self whilst tacitely My Conscience tells me I deserve
in hight of pride Should undervalue all the world beside Yet shall that man so high and excellent Be look'd upon but as the Excrement Of mankind all his splendid acts shall dy His Fame in dark oblivion shall ly Fetter'd and speechlesse to Eternity Those who have seen his flatt'rers to him bow Shall then demand where is this gallâ—nt now For he shall quickly vanish like a dream No Antiquary shall find out his name That Meteor shall soon pâ—sse out of sight As doth an Ignis fatuâ—s in the night The eye which see him with the morning rise Shall not perceive him when the evening skie Approach the Earth those glorious Palaces In which he thought he fully did possesse All that he could desire shall then appear As dreadful monuments serving to declare What once he was that from these topicks all May well conclude the greatnesse of his fall Now after he is fall'n pray let us see What will the state of this poor Creature be It shall be low it shall be poor indeed His Children shall from Beggars beg their Bread And from their Fathers Slaves compassion plead Then for his Person pity him who will He soon becomes a horrid spectacle His Flesh is larded with his youthful sins And in his vigrous years old age begins To seize upon him dreadful fits o' th' Stone Reliques of Pox and pains of Gout annon Begin their work and take down piece by piece That goodly Fabrick which in former days Seem'd to enjoy a lease of many years But now this stately Body soon appears Like an old tottering weather-beaten house With windows crack'd and walls so ruinous As they can scarce support the falling roof So that the boldest Artist stands aloof And e'r he to repair it doth begin He props't without and standarts it within Yet ' spite of those supporters after all This aged building to the ground doth fall So this poor wretch now paralytick grown With tottering head and joynts all overflow'n With Goutish humours teeth all hanging loose Within their sockets a distilling Nose Eyes full of brackish liquor shoulders stooping Under-lip in a constant spittle drooping Lungs with a sharp and wasting cough oppress t Which doth bereave him of his nightly rest Pump'd up the Wind-pipes with a raging froath In lobs and parcels issuing from his mouth His Skin with Boils and Ulcers diaper'd Of his lascivious sports the sad reward His Stomach uselesse and his Bowels weary With th' torture of a constant disentery His legs now rotting to the Bones apace In a consuming Eresâ—pelas Som ' doz'n issues in his Shoulders Arms And Neck appearing like so many Charms And spels upon his Body all his Veins Choak'd with a sâ—â—my pituite his Reins Buried in sand which squandring every where Along the Channels of each ureter Mix'd with some rugged peebles doth so stop Those Conduits in their Course that drop by drop The damm'd up Urine issues with such pain As he would rather wish he could retain It in his Body then thus let it go With such infernal agony although Barr'd in its Current it should upwards rise And force a passage at his very Eyes Mouth Nose or Ears rather then tolerat His Vessels to be so excoriat With those sharp stones as from that narrow spout Moe drops of blood than Urine issue out With hands by drunken excesse in his youth So trembling that they scarce can to his mouth Convey his food such swelings in his feet As when in cut out Shooes he walks in Street Amongst the busie croud he dars not go Lest some perhaps might tread upon his toe But with great leasure by shop-doors doth crawl Contemn'd abhorr'd and pointed at by all Where on he dwindles in great wrath and chaff To see how now even Boyes do at him laugh Supported by the buttresse of a staff This man I say in such a tottering state Of Means as well as Health evacuat Prop'd up by art may for some time subsist But let him use what Medicines he list His ruinous mouldy Carcasse after all Shall split and in the Grave in pieces fall And with it all those sad effects of Lust And other pleasures shall ly down in Dust These only he shall carry with him hence As dismal vouchers and sad evidence Of days ill spent these with this man shall dy These with him under the cold Turf shall ly Here here 's the end of him who takes delite In acts of sin whose curious appetite Feeds upon sin dress'd up with sauce of youth Which makes it taste like Hony in the mouth Of him who takes such pleasure in his vice As he esteems himself in Paraclise When tumbling 'mongst the downs of soft delite In the embraces of some catamite Or some rank Whore of the lewd man who swears There 's nothing to his eye so fair appears As those fine pleasures which perpetually The preaching-fools with violence decry Who hugs sin in his bosome clings about it Who cannot eat drink wake or sleep without it O thus shall end the man who in his youth As one keeps Sugar-tablet in his mouth And cause 't is sweet he will not let it o r Until it melt but sucks it more and more With great delite so sweetly sucks the juice Of sin as if it were his only choise For as a poisoned morsel to the taste By art is rendred pleasant but at last When in the Stomach it begins to boile And throws up noisome fumes like sealding Oyl Not Rhubarb gall of Asps or Hemlock root Can be more bitter so beyond all doubt Sin when the pleasure of its act is gone And mans hot blood begins to cool anon Becomes so bitter so severely tart As makes the poor deiuded sinners heart Sink in a sea of griefs and meanly faint At thoughts of sin but O how few repent At these sad doings O how few abstain For all that sorrow all that grief and pain From shrewd repeating of those sins again With the same pleasure he who swallows down Great quantity of worldly means assoon As he has got according to his mind His bargain 's clos'd the writings seal'd and sign'd The Evidents and Keys Delivered His Title fix't his Right ascertained Both of his Purchase and his Warrandice And with his own convenience pay'd the price So that he cannot fancy for his heart Where lyes th' encumbrance on which Lawyers art Can found Eviction Then God in anger on this fool doth look And as one angles Fishes by a Hook So neatly busk'd and covered with a Fly As in the Water to a vulgar eye It appears real so when wealth entices This cunning worldling by his own devices He 's quickly catch'd and hook'd all he has got His Houses Mannours Treasures and what not Are quickly taken from him and amain He vomits all he swallowed up again Like one that sucks the poison of an Asp Or Vipers Tongue who to his utmost gasp
Garments are so stiff with bile and gore That though as formerly I now could say I might change my Apparrel every day Yet would I by that shifting find no ease Nor would the torrent of my Ulcers cease But in their course run most impetuously Upon my Cloaths and never let them dry But make them so fast to my Body stick Th' express on makes me both asham'd and sick And now like Sow in puddle I appear Wallowing in my own sores and mired here As one in marish stranded all o're run With loathsome Ulcers totally undone With putrid scabs which from my Skin do fall When dry and make me look as I were all A heap of Dust and Ashes Boils and Sores With all that 's ugly Nay I am now so low so mean and base No language my condition can expresse But O what 's worst of all and doth exceed All torments I as yet have suffered My great Creator to whom I do pray And cry aloud a hundred times a day Seems unconcern'd no notice of me takes But 'fore my eyes his flaming Sword he shakes In token of his Wrath and now appears To second all my jealousies and fears By this bâ—d usage Lord how frequently As a poor Beggar at thy gates do I Implore for thy own sake some Charity How oft have I good Lord to thee complain'd But have as yet no grace from thee obtain'd Wilt thou not help me Lord wilt thou not hear Me when I pray ah wilt thou not give ear To my sad crys good Lord what shall I say Shall I at all times to no purpose pray Wilt not concern thy self O mighty Lord With my afflictions wilt thou not afford One gracious answer wilt thou still stand by A meer spectator of my misery And make no help to me but in this case Suffer me to expire in great disgrace Alace good Lord I find thy wrath so hot That I had rather die upon the spot Then live in thy displeasure for I now Perceive there 's nothing I can ever doe Can purchase so much as a short Cessation From Persecution for thy indignation Against me doth with cruelty increase And there 's no means left to procure my peace For in Afflictions Ocean I 'me so toss't 'Twixt Wind and Wave beyond all sight of Coast Beyond all hopes of Calm now rais'd aloft Each Minut by the Surge and then as oft Amongst the gaping Waves precipitate As I 'me no better then ingurgitate In this Abyss of Troubles Now all this Tempest by thy mighty hand Is rais'd against me Lord at thy command All thâ—se Infernal Woes assembled are By which I see O Lord thou dost appear My open Enemy and in thy wrath Resolv'st even to pursue me to the death I know thou dost nay I am very sure My Wounds are mortal past all hopes of cure And I must quickly die good Lord I know There is no remedy but I must go To th' House appointed for all here below To the cold Grave where huddled up do ly The mouldy Records of Mortality Where all the pride of Earth its pomp and glory Are to be found in a large Repertory Of Dust and Ashes thither Lord I know Thither annon O thither I must go Where enter'd in Deaths Book my life I fear Shall a more famous Precedent appear Of Humane Frailty and the vanity Of this poor World then a whole Century Before my time can show whilst all in me May a most evident example see Both of thy Goodness and thy sad displeasure Dispens'd in an extr'ordinary measure Yet here 's my comfort that when I descend To Earth my Troubles shall be at an end The War of my Afflictions shall cease And in the Grave at least I shall have peace For sure my God will not pursue me there Or make me in worse state then others are Who in that melancholly Cloyster dwell But will permit me there to rest as well As all my Predecessors in that place And when I come that length give o're the chase For whilst I live I never do expect T' have any rest what ere I may suspect Shall be my state of life when life is gone For on the matress of the Grave alone I may have ease but here I shall have none Strange that with grief I should be thus oppress 't Why had I ever lodg'd within my breast A heart of Flint that never could comply With others woes by rules of Sympathy Or had I been so cruelly severe As in my life I never would give ear To th' crys of those who did sad troubles feel And 'mongst the billows of Afflictions reel But unconcern'd at all their misery Had suffered them unpityed to die Then had I merit all those griefs and woes I now endure but on the contrare those Who were in trouble I did pity so As oftentimes tears from my eyes would flow When any I beheld in sad estate Though far from being tortur'd at this rate As I am yet my kind and tender soul Would these mens troubles heartily condole Nay when I 'de hear th' afflicted wretches groan I 'de look on their condition as my own Yet ah when I expected better things For this complyance with sad Sufferings I only meet all the reward alace Of all my sighs and pious tenderness Is nothing but the utmost of distress Barbarous usage Cruelty Oppression Blows Unkind dealings Pains beyond expression Ingratitude Horrour and Poverty Are all the product of my Charity For even now whilst I speak I find such pain As I 'me not able longer to sustain The weight of my Afflictions Oh I faint I faint indeed now all my strength is spent Nay in my bowels only I do find Such pain as would distract a constant mind For this cause I go mourning all the day And in dark Holes and Corners take my way To Caverns where the Sun beams are unknown And find some comfort to be there alone Where I my woes with freedom may bemoan For when at any time I do appear In publick O how I 'me asham'd to hear My own sad exclamations alace Now every day I see my own disgrace And O my friends d' ye think but such as I Who but of late liv'd in Authority Amongst those people do now think it sad To be thus gaz'd on as if I were mad To be thus gaz'd on thus constrain'd by pain To cry aloud before these very men Who but of late did see me in this place In great respect but now in sad disgrace They see me here for this cause do I fly To Woods and Desarts where no Humane eye May in the least perceive me there I howl And screigh like Dragon there the dismal Owl I in my nightly crying imitate And these and I are now associat For we are all wild sad and desolate These are my brethren these and I are now Well known t' each other for with