Selected quad for the lemma: cause_n
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A17461
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Saint Marie Magdalens conuersion
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I. C., fl. 1603.
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1603
(1603)
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STC 4282; ESTC S118867
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10,918
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28
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soule how foule wilt thou appeare How full of feare in that last dreadfull day When thou shalt bitter exclamations heare Of such whome thou did'st guilefully betray What canst thou say What colour canst thou bring T' excuse thy selfe of this infecting sinne O none at all for sinnes-selfe I am growne There is no sinne but what in me remaines To be a publick sinner I am knowne The note of shame which all my kinred staines The blott which I would wash of with my bloud To purchase to my selfe the name of good But I haue bin so long sinnes seruingman That men will thinke I cannot from him part They will obiect I am a publican And by long custome grounded in the arte From custome we another nature take In good or ill shee doth vs perfect make If to my sister home-againe I take me Shee will reiect me least I spott her fame If to my kinsfolkes they will all forsake me Through my misdeedes I haue incur'de such blame I dare not to a strainger showe my face H' will wounde my soule with wordes of foule disgrace Like to Mineruas bird when shee appeares And showes her hated selfe vnto the light Eache fath'red foule against her Clamors reares And makes her all ashamed take her flight They all pursuing her with â—ill and winge And shee as fast away doth from them flinge So doth it farre with me distressed one When in the peopled streets I chaunce to walke There man nor woman doth respect my moane But all of my losse life doe seeme to talke All seeme to wonder at me a I goe And Monster-like me to their children showe Me thinkes I see some from their windowes looke And with their fingers pointing out my shame And some who cannot my foule presence brooke With lauish tounges to publish my defame All handes and tounges conspiring my disgrace Whil'st I a lothed Creature veyle my face For though it bee a common act to fall And sinne it selfe is too well Cherished Yet is the sinner hattefull vnto all Compass'on now ' mong'st men is perished The plea of mercie will not hold in lawe Eache Pettyfogger in it findes a flawe The begger alwaies for offences bleedes And feeles the hande of grim Seueritie The ritch mans gold can cancell out misdeedes And blind the sight of bleare-eyed briberie But I am ritch in nothing but in sinne That would I all forgoe some grace to winne If in my life I had but once misdone Then had I not such vrgent cause to mourne Or to offend if I had newe begunne Then were there some smale hope of backe-returne But long vs'â—e sinnes from all this hope bereaues And of their good conceptes me hopeles leaues Much like a crasie weather-beaten boate Who hauing all his sayles and tacklinges loste Amid the surges of the seas doth floate And too and fro with euerie guste is toste So waues my anxious soule mid'st stormy feares No harbor can shee finde no calme appeares But since of freindes my sinnes hath me bereft I will returne vnto that Nazarite Who of his pitty hath good tokens left In me for lorne wretched Israelite He is for all afflicted and distrest A harbor hauen and a port of rest A God-like man if I may terme him soe Or rather God for dowbtles so he is More then a man to bee his deedes doe showe Eache eye his acc'ons more then humane fees But how shall I bee gratefull to the best When I a sinner doe my selfe detest For beinge good as hee no other seemes As chiefest good he hateth all that 's ill Like Traytors to his crowne he sinners deemes Who still oppose themselues against his will Nothing in God but sinne can hatred breede How then shall I the worst of sinners speede Through his all-seing wisedome he doth knowe The passed faultes of my transgressing life How great the woundes haue bin the Scarres will showe As yet my sinfull soares are bleeding rife More then all others I did him offend Lesse cause there is that he should succor lend What he will say now all men thee reiect Canst thou suppose that I will thee receaue Mee most deseruing thou did'st least respect And for a shadow did'st the substance leaue All that thou hast I gaue yet thou vniuste Did'st moste offend him who did giue thee moste I did Create thee of a different state From other Creatures of a lesse respect I mighte haue made thee like in forme and shape Vnto the Monsters of a feirce aspect But I did giue thee natures ornament Beautie which thou hast lauishlie mispent I gaue thee will for to desire the best And vnderstandinge to discerne the same Thou wast not ignorant of my behest For all thy Nation inuocate my name If thou had'st beene a Gentile thy abuse Might haue put on some colour of excuse But thou did'st knowe what did to me belong And what thy selfe in duty should'st haue done Yet thou did'st neuer cease to worke me wrong Persistinge alwaies in thine ill begunne I sparinge thy deserued punishment Expectinge still thy sinnes relinquishment He that his Creditor hath long delay'de With dilatory hopes of payements due Hauing made breache of promise grows dismai'de Least irefull rigor will his fault ensue His Creditors fear'de presence he forsakes Tyll due repayement some atonement makes But thou art farre ingaged in my debt For what hast thou which I did not bestowe Hou canst thou then newe credite now expect Who neuer pai'st but euer seek'st to owe For nowe thou com'st no olde debtes to defray But mercies newe disbursementes for to pray Canst thou imagine I my selfe forgette Or that calme mercy reuengefull Iustice staies Although t is true I sitt on mercies seate Yet my right hand the sword of Iustice swaies Mercie and Iustice are at my dispence To pardon or to punish eache offence Thou hast already tasted mercies store In that I did so long thy life sustaine Now Iustice doth require thou should'st restore Thy borrow'd talent with an earned gaine But banckrout-like thou hast mispent the stocke And now asham'd at mercies gate doest knocke I knowe this Lord I know I haue offended And am in debted more then I can pay I humbly craue that mercy be extended And I no more will runne so fare astray Teares spent her speach for now shee wept amine And after teares shee thus beganne againe If thou O Lord wilt cancell my olde debt And once againe restore me to thy grace If thou wilt all my former wronges forgett And smoothe the wrinckels of thy angery face The remnant of my purchas'd life I vowe In thy true seruice wholy to bestowe Here silent griefe supprest her further moane And stopt the current of her flowing teares Shee could not speake nor weepe her soule alone The heauy waight of sorrowes burthen beares When outward sences once haue spent their store Then inward passions doe offlicte the more Her soule within her holdes a parlament And summons all her powers to appeare
SAINT MARIE MAGDALENS CONVERSION ✚ IHS Printed with Licence THE AVTHOR TO THE READER This smale poeme Gentle Reader was composed for the pleasure of some priuate freinds and intended to haue bin presented for a Newe-yeres gift the first of this mounth But interuention of other affaires delaied the finishing therof vntill the last I made choyce of this subiect as most fitting this time of death the stile being correspondant plaine and passionate much like a morning garment fitting both the time and the matter Graue enough for sobrest wittes and not se harshe but may content the nicest eares The reading whereof I doubt not will proue both pleasant and profitable which is as much as I can wish or thou desire Farewell this last of Ianuarie 1603. Thyne I. C. TO THE DEVOVT AND VERTVOVS MISTRIS F. B. I. C. PRESENTES THIS HIS WORTHELES LABOVR for a Newe-yeares gifte THis day the eight'h from his Natiuitie The glorious Sonne of the Omnipotent Was Circumcis'de bearinge mans frailetie T' appease the wrath of the Magnificent This day the Sonne of blessed MARY shed His first deare bloud to make vs liue b'inge dead In memorie whereof this custome takes That on the first day of the newe-borne yeare Eache freind vnto his freind some present makes Louer to Louer husband to his pheare But I poore I that haue no gifte to bringe Out of my home-bred Muse these verses singe SAINT MARY MAGDALENS CONVERSION OF Romes great conquest in the elder age When she the worlde made subiect to her thrall Of louers giddy fancies and the rage Wherwith that passion is possest withall When ielousie with loue doth share apart And breedes a ciuill warre within the harte Of Helens rape and Troyes beseiged Towne Of Troylus faith and Cressids falsitie Of Rychards stratagems for the english crowne Of Tarquins lust and lucrece chastitie Of these of none of these my muse nowe treates Of greater conquests warres and loues she speakes A womans conquest of her one affects A womans warre with her selfe-appetite A womans loue breeding such effects As th'age before nor since nere brought to light Of these and such as these my muse is prest To spend the idle houres of her rest Thou blessed Saint whose life doth teach to liue Intreate that louing and best loued Lord of thine That he vouchsafe such liuely grace to giue Vnto these dull and liueles rimes of mine That such as read this good though ill told story May be like thee for their offences sorry When first the worlds Creator our dread Lord Did with his presence blesse Iudeae land And to all sortes of people did afforde His gratious fauour and all helping hand Restoring by his power Omnipotent The lazar deafe blind lame and impotent Amongst the daughters of the sonnes of men Shee that did most his gratious mercy proue Was Mary Marthas sister Magdalen Who loued most and had most cause to loue Her wounded soule he cur'de with sinnes opprest Natures deffects in others he redrest Shee needed not the ritch mans golden ring That all desires seldome well gott good Shee needed not the Herauldes deif'ing To make her gentle of vngentle bloud Shee needed not the painters white and red Nature those colors in her face had shed Her eyes vnto their Mistres yeelded light All though her selfe within herselfe were blind Shee was nor lame nor deafe nor lazar-like Perfecc'ous store to each lime was asin'de With natures gifts she plent'iously was graced But sinne those ornamentes had all defaced Sinne made her want in middest of her store Sinne made her seruile in her libertye Of all good graces sinne did make her poore And ritch in nothing but in misery Her soule was subiect to a thousand euilles Her body combred with as many Diuilles But her dear Lord through his life-giuing grace This many-headed Monster draue away And those foule fendes who did his workes deface His blessed presence from her did affray He thought not meete that such vnseemely gest Should in so faire an Arbour build their nest After her foes were thus disperst and gone Her captiue soule b'inge franchis'de from their thrall And shee transformed by that mighty one From her life best ' all to celestiall Her Lord affirmed that her loue was such That shee deserued to bee pardoned much Her Lawles lustes shee chaing'de to lawfull loue Her many pleasures to one chiefe delighte All other ioyes shee did from her remoue And only ioyed in his blessed sighte Who best deserued to bee loued most Sauinge her soule from death by sinne b'inge lost Shee hateth nowe what shee had lou'de before Shee loueth him to whome all loue was due Her former mispent life shee doth deplore And nowe endeauors for to lyue anewe Herselfe vnto herselfe did hatefull growe When thus enlight'ned shee her-selfe did knowe This Holy hatred did true loue encrease Shee lou'de the more in that shee hated soe This Holy hatred did her false loues cease And howe to loue arighte to her did showe O Hatred thow are only good in this In all thinges else thow doest worke amisse Like to a monster to her selfe shee seem'ed And of her selfe her selfe was now afraide Shee sawe 't was otherwyse then shee had deem'ed And loth'de to see how fondly shee had straied Shee now perceaues the errors of her life Which makes her with her selfe to be in strife O how haue I deceaued beene quoth shee With the false shew of counterfeyt delight Were these the pleasures this the vanities Which now so much my gilty soule affright Haue I incurr'd the losse of life and fame To purchase sorrow and repentant shame Did I for this my fathers house forsake Leauing my carefull sister sisterles Did I for this of frendes me frendles make Shaming my kindred through my sinnefullnes Did I for this leaue sister frends and all And from the seruice of my maker fall O sinne thou art a serpent full of fleyght Thy face seem'de not so fowle as now I see Thou dost bewitch vs with a strong deceipte Of seeming good though full of miserye Our soules thou woundest with thy poysonus dart And we as senceles neuer feele the smart Thou art the losse of heauen and hels best frend How many like a Syren here thee sing How many by in chantment dost thou send To Plutoes Kingdome ere they feele thy sting But why doe I exclaime against thee so When I was partner in my ouer throw I gaue consent that thou shoul'dst worke my fall I pleased was with what thou did'st suggest I was attendant to ech seruill call And basely subiect to thy foule be-hest I grew a cunning Artist in thy trade And with thy Charmes haue many soules insnar'de O sinne of sinnes and the worst of euills To poyson others with thy stinking breath No meruaile though I was a lodge for Deuilles And worthely became a hell on earth Wast not enoughe that thou thy selfe did'st sinne But that thou others to the same must winne O my lost