beatitude and prostitute my Soule to foule Offence That I should carelesly his Loue neglect that is the beaming beauty of thy State And woo the vgly Diuell in effect thy sacred Image to adulterate This doth exceede all wonderments excesse this Prodigie is more then monsterous That any Soule should loue meere vglinesse before meere beauty more then glorious How can I thinke vpon thy boundlesse Loue and not pursue my selfe with endlesse Hate That for my sake didst hels of torments proue to pull me out of Hell and damned state And when I view my Bodies Edifice I finde so many of thy bounties there As might the Heart of Hate to Loue intice for in each haire-breadth of it they appeare Th' Arteries Sinewes Nerues Veynes Ligaments Heart Lungs Lights and in few the All in All Are thy Loue-tokens and kinde Complements that mak'st thy selfe throgh Lordly loue my thrall Wherein if I should still Philosophize I should finde matter still to praise thy name For this Mindes Organ yeelds such Harmonies as still in silence celebrate thy Fame This Wonder is the Worlds Epitomie a little World true abstract of the Great Yet greater then the Great in dignitie though that in quantitie be more compleate O! how should I to grace thy Grace be glad for that thou mad'st me not in deed or sight Blinde lame deafe epilepticke mute or mad but sound in Soule and Minde in Body right Yet Lord ô yet I want for nothing is brought from Not-being to a Being blest Immediately sith yet I am amisse but all things by degrees attaine their best For in the Worke of Nature Sense perceiues that first of all the Matter she prepares Then fits it to the Forme which it receiues but formes it not perhaps in many yeares Yet she doth not as lacking Pow'r or Art leaue ought imperfect which she takes in hand Yet out of hand she perfecteth no Part but that shee doth in time in Sea and Land Then thou that art her Soueragine canst thou lacke of her perfection in thy Workes begun Canst thou Almightie see Them goe to wracke or through neglect to leaue them halfe vndone Effects vnto their Causes onely looke that they from them Perfection may receiue Then of their Causes if they be forsooke they make a show but onely to deceiue Thou art my sole beginning and mine end then end that well which thou hast well begun Thou art my Cause then me th' Effect amend that I from grace to grace may euer runne Thine Eyes all-seeing see great Wants in me supply those wants deare Lord and let me want Nothing but wants that wanting are in thee sith what thou want'st to thee is discrepant Let no Blocke be more dull to apprehend that thou wouldst haue escape vntride then I Let my Wit for thy foolishnesse contend and let that Folly be my Wisedomes Eye Then in th' Egyptian darknesse of this life I shall behold the glory of thy Sonne And shape my course by him in Stormes of strife for all thy fooles doe striue to him to runne Then with that Protomartire shall I see the Canopie of Heau'n being op'ned wide The beaming beauty of the Trinitie that by none but such fooles can be espide Let me be wise in deed and not in show sith neuer shades haue substances begot And they know nothing as they ought to know that know not they are fooles that know thee not The Foole hath said in heart No God there is so saith he sith he knowes not otherwise Then Truth and Wisedome cals him Foole for this because true Wisedome in this Knowledge lies The Pagan-wisedome though it knew what not that was beneath the Circuit of the Sunne Yet was that wisedome fondly ouer-shot sith all was vaine It knew when all was done For vnder Heau'n as saith thy sacred Truth remaineth nought that is not more then vaine What wisedome then from knowing it ensu'th but such as Fooles by knowing Bables gaine Then let the World still make a Foole of mee So I may onely know my selfe and Thee A Thankesgiuing for our Being LEst Thankelesnesse should close thy Bounties hand which it alone kind Lord hath pow'r to do And sith thou giuest what thou dost command if we but stretch our Good-wils hand thereto Kinde lib'rall Lord giue me an able will to thanke thee for thy gifts that by one gift I may be gratefull for another still which is of Willing-want the onely shift I thanke thee then not onely for my Being being as I am the liuely forme of thee But for that thy high Prouidence all-seeing doth striue to make me euer better Bee For should thy hand be but a moment clos'd I should to nought resolue as once I was For thou my time of moments hast compos'd the last of which I cannot ouer-passe Then looke how many moments I exist so many blessings dost thou giue to mee Preuenting me with others ere I wist that so my Being might right blessed be From my Conception to Natiuitie thou keptst me saf◠thogh strait kept in the womb My Mothers Bowels might haue strangled me but that thy Mercies hand still made me roome Wherein I felt ere I could feele or see the blessings of thy tender Prouidence And lest I should perhaps abortiue be thou gau'st me there full nine Months residence Where how thou fedd'st me by the Navle-string I may admire but ne'er the same expresse And how thou didst my Parts together bring confus'd in slime it is no wonder lesse The longings of my Mothers appetite her food feares griefes fals and such accidents Might haue enforc'd her ere my Frame was pight eft to diffuse me in the Elements For when I was an Embrio but a thought might haue redrown'd me in Not-beings Pit But then thou thoughtst on me and so hast wrought that Danger from her Mouth me safe did spit How happily-vnhappy had I bin to be made Man in possibilitie And marr'd eu'n as my making did begin so straight to finde and lose Humanitie That which we neuer had we neuer lost therefore for losse of that we cannot grieue But rare things had to lose doth grieue vs most for better still dead then but now to liue Then to be borne within no Pagan Clyme addes no small waight to this great Benefit But come of Christians in good place and time and am a Christian much more maketh it And am a Christian ô that so I were as I am nam'd and still desire to b◠That I might say I am and so appeare sith but to seeme good is too bad with thee For thou great GOOD that call'st thy selfe I AM dost loue I am not was nor yet will be Then let me say I am in deede and name thy Seruant that but liues to honour thee For sith I haue such Beeing let me be such as I AM not as I am that is Such as Thou art most perfect Pietie for thou art wast and euer wilt-be this Besides thou hast and dost preserue
bee 't violent quicke or slow A Saint as Man may seare and faint in death As Christ did dying yer he yeelded Breath Let this Cup passe was Terrours proper voyce yet vtter'd by our Sauiours sacred Tongue Our flesh he tooke annoi'd did make that noise fore-feeling it should be with Torments stunge My God my God why hast forsaken me vnto our Flesh intirely did belong Then may true Martyrs in Death drouping be With sense of pain but God that gaue them strength To stand to him through him preuailes at length For t is not hard when Gods soft comforts cheere our Soule to suffer torments to endure But when such fauours are turn'd all to feare and in distresse of Minde to hold vs sure To God and for him all annoyes to beare that is a Miracle perform'd by Grace Past Natures best performance and is deere Vnto the Doner then who doth the same Goes straight to glory through Afflictions flameâ— For Works of Iustice we should rather doe than those of Grace now Iustice wils that we In Truths defence should dye with torment too though Grace to vs a stranger seeme to be Obedience farre excelleth Sacrifice the first is duty in the high'st degree The other in our Wils Deuotion lies Then courage in our Death is no true Signe Of life else-where without the Cause diuine For through Vaine-glory some in Death haue seem'd as brauely resolute as Saints haue bin Nay oft the first haue beene the better deem'd by outward-sight that seeth nought within Leaena being but a Curtezanâ— tyring her Tortures though she dide for sinne Spat out her Tongue that to accuse beganne And many more of like sure so haue dide Then by braue dy'ing plain Truth 's not iustifide But dye they how they can that dye for Truth they stoutly dye sith they dye willingly But much more they that dye in sportfull youth though Deaths ougliest face may daunt their eye When they behold him yet if they endure that feare and paine which after they must try They stoutly dye though saint be all their pow'r Nay more they doe sith they so little can Flesh is but mire the Minde doth make the Man But see what ends the Tyrants erst haue made that of Gods Saints made ceaselesse Butchery Nero the chiefe that first did them inuade in his owne bloud his murdring hands did dye And while he bled his last he crying said Foulely I liu'd and dye more filthily Thus for his paines in paining he was paide Domitian by his Seruants being slaine For doing like the like reward did gaine Fell Maximinus with his Sonnes was brought to selfe same issue Decius with his Frye Incurr'd the like Valerianus caught by him that swaid the Persian Monarchy Was cag'd in Iron more fast then Lyons are who in the end being flaid dide wretchedly But Dioclesian worst of all did fare For he fell mad â—o made himselfe away While fire from Heau'n his House did leuell lay So of the like in life and their Degrees Iâ— might count many dire and awfull deaths All dranke Gods vengeance Vials to the lees in their bloud o'erwhelm'd they lost their breaths For God vnstings such angry Waspes and Bees sith each their Stings in Saints too often sheathes God burnes his Rods when he hath paid his fees Yet Stings of spight in th' Head of Pow'r with wit Can sting the World to death if Heau'n permit But howsoe'r th' Almighty throwes his Rods into the fire when he his Ire doth cease Yet oft the scurged fall to greater ods with Goodnesse than before The Churches peace Makes her more loose then when shee 's bound to fight vncessantly with foes that her disease For they liue wrong that rest to much in Right Mettall though Siluer resting long vnscowr'd Will canker or with filth be quite obscur'd For ah this Witch the World with pleasing charmes so lullabies our Sense in soft delights That though we be vpon our guard in armes yet we are taken in our Appetites And made to serue the Diuell and our Flesh in strictest Bondage while their Parasits Sinne-soothing Pleasures doe our Sense refresh To serue them with the more alacritie So â—lee le ts Grace our Sense to mortifie A Parable Wee ' are like a Man chast by a raged Bull who in his flight into a Well doâ—h fall And in the fall by chance he lighteth full vpon a Tree that there growes in the Wall And resting there there sets his Soules delight but looking better on the place withall He spies two Mice one blacke the other White Who still the Roote of this his rest doe gnaw And more and more asunder it doe saw Then vnderneath he lookes and there espies a gaping Dragon threatning to deuoure him And at his feete foure striuing Serpents rise yet looking vp he spies what doth allure him And makes him deeme he is from dangers free a little Honie which he euer tryes Cleaues to a branch of that vntrusty Tree For which these dangers he neglects and still That Hony sicks yet ne'er can licke his fill The Morall The Bull is Death the World the Well the Tree our time of life the white Mowse and the blacke The Day and night the striuing Adders be the Elements that striue vs still to wracke The Diuell the Dragon and the Honie is our whitest Pleasures that are lin'd with blacke And blacke within for losse of Glories Blisse Who therefore would not deeme that man were mad That in such dreadfull dangers can be glad What comfort can we haue then in a place that 's by the Prince of darknesse gouerned Where eu'ry thing is in a cursed case and by Gods foes and good-mens peopled Where Paines be riâ—e extreame and infinite but Pleasures few and false fraile dull and dead Which at the best at least doe vexe the sp'rit Where Plentie's full of perill Want of woes And in a word where all that ill is flowes Then cast we off these pleasures that but cast a mist before our Eyes and mocke our Sense But let vs hugge those paines and hold them fast that bring eternall ioyes for recompence Now if this Potion worke not in sicke-mindes at point of death is their Intelligence Nay Death the pow'r of all their forces bindes In few Great things by greatest mindes are sought The small but seeke for shades the shels of Nought To attaine a quiet Life WHo would in quiet spend his life must shunne the Cause of strifes Effect And yet with Vice still liue in strife so Strife retaine and it reiect 1 Hold no Conceit 'gainst that Conceit the King maintaines vnlesse it be Against that Faith whose forme and waight with TRVTH well tride doth still agree 2 Finde neuer Fault but when the same concernes the Honor of the High'st Or else the Kings to heare whose blame is blame which oft to Death is nigh'st 3 No Wager lay for that but stirres the Losers heart to hate and ire Which oft enflameth Ciuill-warres
Hope at thee doth graspe Fasten their fingers giue them strength to hold As Ancors sure in roughest Tempests would Kind Lord sole comfort hope of each poore wretch With Eyes conuerting Peter looke on me Those glittring Sunnes their beames of comfort stretch To cursed'st sinners if they contrite be Then let those sacred Sun-beames gild with grace My blacke dispairing Soule and rue her case The longing of the Soule to be with God SOule-searching Lord and sole selfe-searching God Let my poore Soule thy vnknowne sweetnesse know Thy staying Staffe sin-correcting Rod On me on me sweet Loue in loue bestow Strength of my weaknes my great weaknes strength guide thou my Goings stay my stumbling feete My stumbling feet establish Lord at length in pathes that are as pure as sure and sweet Eye of mine Eye let my dimme Eye behold thee Dim'd with the hellish mist of damn'd desires Ioy of my heart ô let my heart iâ—fold thee and take my Spirit that still to thee aspires O Beauties Beautie wound my heart with Loue Life of my life let my life liue in thee In thee I haue my being liue and moue Of me but thou then who should mouer be Celestiall Bridegroome kisse thy Spouse my Soule With kisses sweet of vnconceiued peace On thy transpierced palme her name enrowle With thy sinne-purging bloud my sinnes release Mellefluous Sweetnesse sweetning sweetest sweets Sweeten my Sowre sowre Leauen of offence Season my fleshes Lump with matter meete For Sacrifice sweete smelling to thy sense O Goodnesse let me Badnesse thee embrace With hold-fast armes of euer-lasting loue O Well of Life in this dry barren place Quench thou my thirst for thee which here I proue Be thou to me a plague preuenting Towre When plaguesâ—ngirt â—ngirt my Soule with fierce assault My forcelesse force then strengthen with thy power that if o'er-borne yet not through my Wils fault Doe ope the entries of my deafned Eares Deafe with the dinne of words breath'd by despair O thundring Voyce that Hel from Heauen heares Breake through the bars that let thy words repaire O let the deepes in dreadfull harmonie Their Billowes tune vnto that awfull voyce Let Heauen and Earth in ioynt conspiracie with it accord to drownd Sinnes hellish noyse Turn thou mine Eies with fearful Lightnings flash From Eye-bewitching Obiects of offence Deaden my flesh my bones to ponder dash That dead to Sinne may quicke in thee haue sense Encrease thy Streames lay ope the water-springs That Earths foundations proplesse may appeare My earthly thoughts all soild with earthly things Thy troubles streames through mercy straind will cleare O light vnseene enlightning all that see Lighten mine eyes that they may see thy light That light that with no darknesse can agree O light of lights present that to my sight Sauour of life giue new life to my smell That on the sent of thy diuine perfumes I may runne after thee through Heauen and Hell Through comfort or throgh care that life consumes O touch my sensuall ill-affected Taste With finger of thy sweet life-giuing Loue That it may proue the sweetnesse which thou hast Which may thy sweetnesse to my soule approue Giue me a Minde to minde thee Heart to loue thee Soule to adore thee Spirit to discerne thee A Reas'n that may in reason most approue thee And Reason most for that doth most concerne thee O liuely Sweet ô sweet Life-giuing Life O let my Loue in thy Loues life be bounded The life of loue portcullized from strife which liuely life with louely loue 's surrounded O life my life life without which I die O laborinth of life ô maze of loue Where shall I finde thee sweet loue when shall I my loue to loue and life to life remoue O where art thou thou great all-mouing mouer Can clouds encompasse thy vncompast Greatnes Thou endlesse life vnlimitable louer No no sweet loue then show to me thy sweetnes Be neere me in my heart my minde my mouth Neere in my hearing and each other sense Neere in mine age and neere me in my youth neere in mine end to end without offence Through ardent loue I pine away for thee For want of thee deare sweet my Soule is sad Then longd-for louely loue appeare to me And with thy glorious presence make me glad Thy sense-refreshing sent my Spirit reuiues To minde thee 's Nectar to my thirstie Soule Thy Inspiration Consolation giues Such consolations as all cares controule But yet ô yet euen as the chased Hart For water thirsts so thirsts my Soule for thee For thee sweet loue for my soules soule thou art Without which soule can my soule liuing be O when shall I deare Lord vnworthy I Appeare in thy pure Palace Christiline My mounting Spirit wing'd with Desire doth flye Aboue it selfe to see that Court of thine Ioy of my soule when when aye me ô when Shall I with eyes immortall see thy glory Alas I liue a dying life till then Till when my longing soule can be but sory O why turnst thou my Ioy my hearts desire Thy Sunne-ecclipsing glorious face from me Where art thou hid Earth Water Aire or Fire Cannot containe the smallest glimpse of thee Then where art hid ô changelesse fairest Faire For whom my rauisht soule in loue doth languish The smell of whom lifes ruines doth repaire Though life assailed be with mortall anguish But ah aye me I see I see thee not And that I cannot kils my louing heart Yet when I heare thy voyce I haue forgot What me annoid and ioy suppresseth smart But why ah why from me hid'st thou thy face Perhaps thou â—aist Man cannot liuing see it Bee 't so sweet Lord I faine would death embrace To see the same so be it ô so be it Here let me dye that I may see thee There There where my Soule so much desires to see it That life as death I hold that holds me here Then let me dye so be it ô so be it Faine would my Soule this fardle of my Flesh Lay downe at gastly Deaths vnfleshy feet That being consum'd I may resume afresh â—mmortall flesh for thy pure presence meet O Christ my Iesus take my spirit to thee My spirit aspiring clogg'd with fleshes waight It 's jaild too long it longs let loose to be And euery moment for release doth waite My Ioy draw thou my heart that ioyes in nought but in thy ioy sole ioy of blissefull hearts To thy true ioy whose griess such blisse hath bought which blisse my griefs with ioy to blisse conuerts Enter into me Sweetnesse make me sweet Sweet Ioy possesse me make me sad reioyce Eternall light shine on me make me meet To see and know and loue thee as my Choise The cause I loue not is I know thee not I know thee not in not perceiuing thee I not perceiue for darknesse light doth blot Light shines in darkenesse yet It cannot see Who sees thee knows who knows thee stil doth loue thee Who sees
art Thou that suffer'st for mans sake O tell me for I will diuulge thy Word that all things made men marred to re-marke First for thy selfe with what rich tearmes of Art shall I expresse Thee inexpressable I le say as thou said'st Thou art what Thou art because Thou know'st Thou wert ineffable Thou art a BEEING more then infinite and being of thy selfe proceed'st of none Without thee can no being chance to light for Chance and being light by Thee alone Thy matchlesse pow'r of nothing all things made thy Goodnesse saues all without other aide And if thou wouldst to nothing They should fade for in for and by thee they all are staid Thou onely art that art and nothing is besides thee in comparison of thee The Lamps of Heau'n their light before thee misse whose brightnesse bright'st Eyes are blinde to see All beautie 's Foulenesse Pow'r infirmitie Wisedome Grosse Folly Goodnesse worse then nought Weigh'd with thy more then All sufficiencie more faire strong wise and good then can be thought More then most faire sith selfe Formositie and more then pow'rfull sith Omnipotent Much more then Wisedome sith her Soules right eye exceeding Goodnesse sith her Continent Yea good thou art both to the good and bad for good and bad sucke sweetnesse still from thee With good gifts good Soules thou dost ouer-lade and good'st the bad to make them better be Without distraction thou dost all in All Thou All contain'st yet art in eu'ry place And yet art all alike in great and small yet here then there much greater by thy Grace Thou euer work'st yet euer art at rest resting in endlesse dooing thy good Will Thou all vphold'st and yet art not supprest th' art Good alone and yet thou suffer'st ill Thou Cause of Causes art yet caused art to punish sinne yet didst for sinners die Thou art impassible yet sufferd'st smart lower then Hell yet more then Heau'n hie What shall I say of thy dread Maiestie Thou Earth behold'st and It doth trembling stand Touch but the Mountaines and they smoke thereby then Seas and Windes doe rest at thy command The Sunne with gloomy Clouds enueloped doth hide his head wheÌ„ thou his head dost frown The Moone and Stars with Cloud-cloakes couered in their confusion sham'd doe then lye downe Thou spread'st the Heau'ns marchest on the deepe whilst her deepe Base yeelds dreadfull harmonie Thou mak'st the Spheares both Time Tune to keep maugre their Discords and varietie Thou call'st the Stars by name who come at call and like true Sentinols keepe well their watch Hiperion that guides the Capitall to thee subordinate doth key their Catch Thou anglest for the huge Leuiathan and throgh his Nostrils mak'st thy Hooke appeare Which being hang'd thou playest with him than as with a Fish that hangs but by an Haire Hell quakes when thou dost volly forth thy voice which Bandies Earth as t were a Racket Batt The Heau'ns shall melt and passe away with noise when thou thy Creatures to account shalt call Vpon the Necks of Monarchs thou dost treade and pau'st the Pauement with their Diadems The dreadfull Pow'rs of thy Pow'r stand in dread and Glory it selfe is blinded by thy Beames The Seraphins though glitt'ring-glorious Sp'rits in thy bright presence seeme but Butterflies Thou rid'st vpon the Cherubins whose sights thy Beautie blinds with rates that thence arise To thee the Gates of Death lye open wide which on their Hinges play as thou dost will Nay Death himself doth quake wheÌ„ thou dost chide as if it would his Soule immortall kill The Heau'ns declare thy glory Fire thy brightnesse the Aire thy subtiletie the Sea thy Dread The flowers of the Field thy Beauties brightnesse thus all in All thy praise abroad doe spread Such and so great such and so great quoth I nay Lord much more then such or so Thou art For Words defectiue are so needs must lye but thou Lord art deficient in no part And now let me recount the wretched wronges which so great Maiestie hath borne for mee And whiles I count let Men and Angels Tongues sound endlesse Peales of Praises vnto Thee Who being so sublime in dignitie did'st from the height of Maiestie descend Into this vale of deepest miserie and cloath'd thee with my flesh the same to mend Wherein thou suffer'dst for my sinfull sake Hunger and Thirst in famishing excesse With Plagues and Persecutions which did make to seeme accursed thy true blessednesse The Passions of the Aire thou did'st abide as Prologus to thy PASSIONS Tragedie For Heate and cold thy Body damnifide as needs they must that hadst no where to lye Whose Pouerty was such that Birds and Beasts were much more rich that Neasts Holes enjoy'd But thou deare Lord hadst neither Holes nor neasts nor ought besides wherein thy Head to hide Borne in a Stable Cradel'd in a Cratch begging the breath of beasts to keepe thee warme Wrapped in Rags that coursest Clouts did patch which did thy tender flesh lesse warme then harme O sight of force to wonder-rap all Eyes Yee Angels all admire this Noueltie For lo your Lord in base Rags wrapped lyes to shew the riches of Humilitie And eight dayes after took'st a Sinners Marke that cam'st indeed to abrogate the same Soone after wast constrain'd to vse the Darke to hide thy Flight that fledd'st to hide thy Fame Therefore thou sought'st the silence of the Night to be the Triton of thy Lowlinesse Yet now the World began thy Fame to spight and in the rise did seeke It to suppresse Herod thy Hunter like a Bloud-hound fell did hunt for Thee that He on Thee might pray For what thou wert he by and by did smell and hunted after Thee a likely way But to a Nation most Idolatrous thou wast constraind from his pâ—rsuite to flye So Innocencie Life preserued thus for which deare Innocents were forc'd to dye Then Innocencie Innocencie slew how then could It therein be innocent For both are innocent yet both is true the first in deede the other in euent They lost their bloud for Him He his for Them so both did bleede and for each other bled And both as Innocents their blouds did streame He as their Head They Members of that Head O! had I beene so blest ere Sinne I knew t' haue di'd for thee among those Innocents Or that I could my sinnes to death pursue or make them liue like banish'd male-contents Then would I dye for thee an Innocent if curst Herodian hands would blesse me so O let me trie this deare Experiment although it cost my Heart-bloud erâ— I goe For when before my Mindes Eye thou dost come in all thy Passions my desire doth melt My very Marrow to taste Martyrdome and Sense feeles paine till it such paines hath felt It may be that I doe but now desire to doe that then I may desire to flye For he that was thy bodyes hardiest Squire so thought and said but did It then deny Flesh is a
humble yet each vertuous Wit Should honour Vertue for selfe-benefit And sith Posteritie doth light receiue To runne to Honor by the Lines we leaue From Vertue drawne we should be drawing still The Lines that drawing lead vp Honors Hill The Highest Pow'r and Grace by oath hath vow'd To honour them among the multitude Of Men and Angels that are good then she That was so good of both must honour'd be Celestiall Maide if from the heau'nly Spheare What Mortals doe thou canst or see or heare Be not displeas'd that my vntutor'd Penne Should teach thy praise to teach all Maides and Men The way to Honor nor that in its Mouth That oft doth fable it should take this Truth I was thy Teacher though vnworthy I Might old learne of thee young to liue and die Yet sith it is th' Oblation of my zeale Which I doe offer for the Common-weale In thy deare Memory thou wilt I hope Acquite me from Presumption sith my scope Was but thy glory and the Peoples good Which in great light goe right in likelihood I must confesse a Priest of Phebus late Vpon like Text so well did meditate That with a sinlesse Enuy I doe runne In his Soules Progresse till it all be DONNE But he hath got the start in setting forth Before me in the Trauell of that WORTH And me out-gone in Knowledge eu'ry way Of the Soules Progresse to her finall stay But his sweet Saint did vsher mine therein Most blest in that so he must needs beginne And read vpon the rude Anatomy Of this dead World that now doth putrifie Yet greater Will to this great Enterprise Which in great Matters solely doth suffice He cannot bring than I nor can much lesse Renowne more Worth than is in WORTHINES Such were they both for such a worthy PAIRE Of louely vertuous Maides as good as faeire Selfe Worthinesse can scarse produce sith they Liu'd like Celestiall Spirits immur'd in Clay And if all-powerfull Loue can All performe That in it hath rare Matter or like Forme Then should my Lines haue both so'accomplished As from the Graue to Heauen should draw the Dead Or with hâ—r Taper-pointed-beaming Name Naile her to Heau'n and in Heau'n clench the same Hold Muse no more thou hast too large a scope To proue thy Pinnions for the Heau'nly Coape Infolds no more and take thy leaue anon Of Her thou ne'er shalt leaue to muse vpon Thou maist be tir'd but ne'er canst flye about The Inside of her praise much lesse the out Then stouping here with reuerence griefe and loue Bid her adue and with that bidding moue Thy selfe to teares but if thou canst not so Shew thy selfe willing by the dryest woe For neuer had I greater cause of griefe Sith while she liu'd I ioy'd in painefull life But now am left all solitary-sad To waile her death whose life made Sorrow glad O! had it pleas'd the Heau'ns by their Decree T' haue made my Pupill learn'd t' haue dide of mee And mine example I had beene at rest And she liue blessed long to dye as blest I like a wither'd Pine no fruit produce Of whom there is no Care no hope no vse I burden but the Earth and keepe a place Of one perhaps that should haue greater grace Opprest with Cares that quite crush out the Sappe That feeds my Life now throwne off Natures Lappe I solely sit and tell the saddest houres That euer yet impeached vitall powres Obscur'd by Fate yet made a Marke by fame Whereat fooles often shoote their Bolts in game Yet liue as buried that I learn'd of thee Deare Pupill while the World goes ouer mee Praying for patience still to vnder-ly The heauie waight of this Worlds iniurie Oft haue I beene enbozomed by Lords But all the warmth I found there was but Words And though I scarse did moue yet scarse they would There let me lie though there I lay acold But as I had some biting Vermine bin Out must I mou'd I but for warmth therein Or els so lie as I were better out Sith there I lay as dead yet liu'd in doubt In doubt I should haue nothing but a place In th' outward Roome but of their Idle Grace In doubt black mouths should blot me in their Bookes That make few Schollers and in doubt my Hookes Would hold no longer to hang on ô Griefe This hanging's worse then hanging of a Theefe An Halter loone abridgeth bale and breath But hanging on mens sleeues is double death To hang in hope of that which doubt doth stay Is worse then hanging till the later-DAY Doubt stayes that meede that merit hopes for oft Lest Meede should but make Merit looke aloft Or quite leaue working sith it hath no neede Therefore the great doe still with-hold this Meede For to them selues they say If we should fill The well-deseruing-empty working still They would but rest than well wee 'l them intreat Yet keepe them hungry still to worke for meat Fate but to State this priuiledge affords And but the meane without meanes worke for words Yet worke they must sith Aire the great doe giue For if they haue their hate they cannot liue Their Loue doth little boote but ô their breath Blowes downe in hate a poore Relict to death These miseries I ranne through and did trye These deare Conclusions but in miserie Hoping for that which but my hopes deceiu'd And me of hope and life almost bereau'd Till I to stand from these was faine to fall To serue two Lords that serue me now withall The one immortall th' other mortall is Who serue my turne for what my life doth misse Which for it 's still amisse still misseth that Which makes men gracious and so fortunate But he who knowes all knowes perhaps it's best For me to liue with little in vnrest For neuer since I first could moue had I A better life than those that liuing dye I neuer yet possest one day of ioy That was not lin'd or hem'd with some annoy The Kingly Preacher in his weale found woe But I in thwarts for those alone I know These made me old in youth for Sol had runne Scarse thirty yeeres before my dayes were done And to his course ere fiue more added were Blacke Daies like Nights in gray had dide my Haire Yet neuer Crosse on me so sad did sit As this deare losse whereof this benefit To me acrewes that now each pressing woe Stands farre without this and this keepes them so I say I greatly grieue yet seeme to faine For great griefes neuer greatly could complaine That is when Sorrowes floud the Banckes doth fill It noiselesse runnes and smoothly glideth still But if the Current once the Brimmes get o'er T will roughly runne or stopt will rage and rore But ô that tyrant Time will silence me Before my griefes are vtter'd as they be Farewell then my griefes Cause who wast th' effect Of all the ioy my life did well elect Farewell in Him on whom who sares is
With honied pleasures while he tastes but Gall God shield we should then let vs onely ioy In his sowre-sweetest Crosse and his annoy Moses did see him in the midst of fire and fiery Thornes and in the mount among Lightnings and Thundrings Daniel did aspire to see his Throne which fiery wheeles did throng Then shall we looke for more Prerogatiue than had these friends of God then him we wrong T' expect what he in Iustice cannot giue For we must see him as the others did Else may we seeke him but he will be hid For as the Sires delight to haue their Sonnes resemble them in fauour so it ioyes Our heauenly Sire to see vs wayward Ones like him in patient bearing all Annoyes Which for our good his grace on vs inflicts for when we beaâ—e what beautie quite destroyes The wemmes and wounds of all his sore conflicts In his faire Eyes we are most louely then And foul'st when fair'st but in the Eyes of men We see a Dogge that but with crusts we feede will in our quarrell fight while he can moue And Seruants which we hire for little Meede will ne'erthelesse die often for our loue Then shall we Christians be lesse kinde then Beasts or thankfull lesse than those we hire for neede To him that giues vs all that Faith requests O no no no it were too great a blame The dignitie of Manhood so to shame The Flow'r of Iesse did most sweetly smell and came to perfect growth vpon the Crosse The fruit of life could not be gather'd well without sharpe Thornes that stooke vnto it close And Gall was tasted in a deadly fit by the best Taster who by his lifes losse Wanne Life to all that dye in him and it And till he rose from Death he did not eate The Hony-combe but fed on sower meate The Waters of Affliction are the streames whereat our heau'nly Gedeon still doth try Who are â—it Souldiers for his Warres Extreames and seuâ—rs such as on their Bellies lie To drinke as thirsting that they full may rise from those that for their meeâ—e necessiâ—ie Reach out their Hands to take what doth suffice Great Wealth and Vertue no agreement haue Sith Vertue makes it serue her as a Slaue Though Prisons of themselues be Sathans folds wherein for slaughter his best Sheepe he keepes Yet may the Cause make them the safest Holds yea Heau'ns of Saints for tho the Linnet peepes When shee 's encag'd at eu'ry loope and Chincke as longing to be gone and often weepes That shee 's restrain'd yea leaues her meat drinke Yet in the Cage she is from danger sure Of Fowlers Snares and Kites that would deuoure But those in Patience that their Soules possesse while they in bonds doe Tyrants wrath asswage The sweeter sing the sowrer their distresse like well-taught Lynnets vsed to the Cage There learne they sweeter Notes than Nature gaue when they abroad were in their Pilgrimage New exercise of Vertue there thâ—y haue Where may we sing with Quires of Angels then More free then when most fast from mortal men Then out of Prison goe we when we be put into Prison so the cause be good For Libertie is but Captiuitie that lightly makes more loose fraile flesh bloud Kings Courts yea Heau'n it self must yeeld with awe t' a Prisons glory though defil'd with Mud That keepes Gods Seruants safely for his Law A Princes Presence makes a Cote a Court And that Pris'n's Heau'n where Saints Angels sport The Coriander-seede in pieces cut each piece brings forth as much as all would doe And so a Martyr into Prison put and there first bâ—uiz'd then cut in pieces too No drop of bloud no piece though turn'd to mould but it hath force the Diuell to vndoe And workes more often then the Owner could For if in priuate Iarres effused Gore For vengeance cries his can doe that and more Of all parts of a Tree the Roote seemes worst for it 's deform'd and most offends the sight Yet all trees vertue thence proceedeth first stemme branch leaues flow'rs fruit yea life might The Roote alone may challenge as her owne for by the same they are both borne and nurst Which in the Roote as in the wombe was sowne So some like Rootes be'ing ragged in the Eye Dying for Christ makes Christians multiplie Some Trees there are that if their Rinde be rent cut prickt or braiz'd a precious Balme it bleeds In sight and sauour faire and redolent but neither yeelds till outward it proceedes So Martyrs when their Flesh is gasht or torne out flowes the Balme that cures their own misdeeds And others heales that so to Vertue turne This balme's so sweet that it the World perfumes Whereby the Pagan Christs sweet Name assumes The Roses sweetnesse if vntoucht it be soone with the leaues doth wither quite away But by the Fire when it is still'd we see it yeeld sweet Iuyce that hardly will decay Nay more the Leaues so bak'd into a Cake doe long make sweet both where they lye or lay And all that neighbors them most sweet doe make The leaues so parcht delighting still the Nose Immortall makes the Sweetnesse of the Rose So Martyrs sweetly liue with Brambles keene sith in their conuersation they are pure Yet few can see it sith they liue vnseene but still from worldly Comforts make them sure Bolt them nay bray or burne them if you will then will their vertue sweetly all allure And Heau'n and Earth with diuine sauour fill Had they by Nature dide their leafe nor iuce Had not beene halfe so sweete nor meet for vse Darke is the Water in the Airy Clouds yet that the Rose and Lilly brings to light Mantling the Earth with all that Nature shrowds within her bowels yer the Waters light What are thesâ— Clouds of which the Psalmist sings but Clouds of Witnesses as blacke as bright Graue Martyrs that giue Truth true witnessings Their Bloud the Water and when out it poures The Time lookes blacke but Saints spring with the showres With bloud the Churches Bud came forth at first as earnest of the fruits she was to beare Who was no sooner'spoused vnto Christ but in their bloud her Infants drowned were To shew her future throwes in bearing young your yeers sweet Lambs could not beleeue nor feare But yet your flesh could dye to right Faiths wrong Thus did the Church as soone as shee was wed With chastest bloud forgoe her Virgin-hed Then to our bloud the Gates of Heau'n flye ope and with our bloud Hell-fire's extinguished Our Bodies bloud doth scowre our Soules like Sope and with our bloud our Bodie 's honored The Diuell shamed and God glorifide for when in Truths defence the same is shed It makes our deedes most glorious in it dide The seed of Vertue and the bane of Vice Is bloud so shed No price to'a bloudy PRICE The resurrection of Truth Faith and Fame did flowrish most when soakt in Martyrs Bloud Whose Palms