shall flye A lessning pitch to the deceived eye If in her Downy Soreage she but ruffe So strong a Dove may it be thought enough Beare with her Time and Fortune may require Your patient sufferance with a fairer flight The generall Application TO thee Malâ—idâ— now I turne my Quill That God is still that God and will be still The painfull Pastors take up Ionah's roome And thou the Ninivite to whom they coâ—e Medit. 1. HOw great 's the love of God unto his creature Or is his Wisedome or his Mercy greater I know not whether O th'exceeding love Of highest God! that from his Throne above Will send the brightnesse of his grace to those That grope in darknesse and his grace oppose He helpes provides inspires and freely gives As pleas'd to see us ravell out our lives He gives us from the heape He measures not Nor deales like Manna each his stinted lot But daily sends the Doctors of his Spouse With such like oyle as from the Widowes cruse Did issue forth in fulnesse without wasting Where plenty still was had yet plenty lasting I there is â—are in heaven and heavenly sprights That guides the world and guards poore mortall wights There is else were the miserable state Of Man more wretched and unfortunate Than salvage beasts But O th'abounding love Of highest God! whose Angels from above Dismount the Towre of Blisse flye to and fro Assisting wretched Man their deadly foe What thing is Man that Gods regard is such Or why should heaven love rechlesse Man so much Why what are men but quickned lumps of earth A Feast for Wormes a bubble full of mirth A Looking glasse for griefe A flash A minute A painted Toombe with putrifaction in it A mappe of Death A burthen of a song A winters Dust A worme of five foot long Begot in sinne In darknesse nourisht Bornâ— In sorrow Naked Shiftlesse and forlorne His first voice heard is crying for reliefe Alas He comes into a world of griefe His Age is sinfull and his Youth is vaine His Life 's a punishment His Death 's a paine His Life 's a houre of Ioy a world of Sorrow His death 's a winters night that findes no morrow Mans Life 's an Hower-glasse which being run Concludes that houre of joy and so is done Ionah must goe nor is this charge confinde To Ionah but to all the world enjoyn'd You Magistrates arise and take delight In dealing Iustice and maintaining Right There lyes your Niniveh Merchants arise And mingle conscience with your Merchandise Lawyers arise make not your righteous Lawes A tricke for gaine Let Iustice rule the cause Tradesmen arise and plye your thriving shops With truer hands and eate your meate with drops Paul to thy Tents and Peter to thy Net And all must goe that course which God hath set ¶ Great God awake us in these drowsie times Lest vengeance finde us sleeping in our Crymes Encrease succession in thy Prophets liew For loe thy Harvest 's great and workmen few THE ARGVMENT But Ionah toward Tharsis went A Tempest doth his course prevent The Mariners are sore opprest While Ionah sleepes and takes his rest Sect. 2. BVt Ionah thus bethought The City's great And mighty Ashur stands with deadly threat Their hearts are hardued that they cannot heare Will greene wood burne when so unapt's the seire Strange is the charge Shall I goe to a place Vnknowne and forraigne Aye me hard 's the case That righteous Isrâ—el must be thus neglected When Miscreants and Gentiles are respected How might I hope my words shall there succeed Which thrive not with the flockes I daily feed I know my God is gentle and enâ—linde To tender mercy apt to change his minde Vpon the least repentance Then shall I Be deem'd as false and shame my Prophecie O heavy burthen of a doubtfull mind Where shall I goe or which way shall I wind My heart like Ianus looketh to and fro My Credit bids me Stay my God bids Goe If Goe my labour 's lost my shame 's at hand If stay Lord I transgresse my Lords command If goe from bad estate to worse I fall If stay I slide from bad to worst of all My God bids goe my credit bids me stay My guilty feare bids fly another way So Ionah straight arose himselfe bedight With fit acoutrements for hasty flight In stead of staffe he tooke a Shipmans weed In stead of going loâ— he flyes with speed Like as a Hawke that overmatcht with might Doing sad penance for th'unequall fight Answâ—ring the Falkners second shout does flee From fist turnes tayle to foule and takes a tree So Ionah baulks the place where he was sent To Nineveh and downe to Iaffa went He sought enquired and at last he found A welcome Ship that was to Tharsis bound Where he may flye the presence of the Lord He makes no stay but straightway goes aboord His hasty purse for bargaine findes no leisure Where sinn delights there 's no account of treasure Nor did he know nor aske how much his Fare He gave They tooke all parties pleased are How thriftlesse of our cost and paines are we Great God of heaven and earth to fly from thee Now have the sailors drunke their parting cup They goe aboord The Sâ—â—les are hoisting up The Anchor 's wayd the keele begins t' obey Her gentle Rudder leaves her quiet Key Divides the streames and without winde or oare She easly glides along the moving shore Her swelling Canvace gives her nimbler motion Sh'outstrips the Tide and hies her to the Ocean Forth to the deepe she launches and outbraves The prouder billowes rides upon the waves She plies that course her Compas hath enjoindher And soone hath left the lessned land behind her By this the breath of heaven began to cease Calme were the Seas the waves were all at peace The flagging mainsaile flapt against her yard The uselesse Compasse and the idle Card Were both neglected Vpon every side The gamesome Porpisce tumbled on the Tide Like as a Mastisâ—e when restrain'd a while Is made more furious and more apt for spoile Or when the breath of man being bard the course At length breakes forth with a farre greater force Even so the miâ—der breath of heaven at last Le ts flye more fierce and blowes a stronger blast All on a sudden darkned was the Sky With gloomy clouds heavens more refulgent eye Was all obscur'd The aire grew damp and cold And strong mouth'd Bâ—reas could no longer hold Eolus le ts loose his uncontrouled breath Whose language threatens nothing under death The Rudder failes The ship's at random driven The eye no object ownes but Sea and Heaven The Welkin stormes and rages more and more The raine powres down the heavens begin to rore As they would split the massie Globe in sunder From those that live above to those live under The Pilot's frighted knowes not what to doe His Art 's amaz'd in such a maze of woe Faces grow sad
the grounds and how unstable How many Deities yet how unable Implore these gods that list to howle and barke They bow to Dagon Dagon to the Arke But hee to whom the seale of mercy 's given Adores Iehovah the Great God of Heaven Vpon the mention of whose sacred Name Meeke Lambs grow fierce the fierce Lions tame Bright Sol shall stop heaven shal turn his course Mountains shall dance and Neptune slake his force The Seas shall part the fire want his flame Vpon the mention of Iâ—hovah's Name A Name that makes the roofe of Heaven to shake The frame of Earth to quiver Hell to quake A Name to which all Angels blow their Trumps A Name puts frolicke man into his dumps Though ne're so blythe A Name of high renown It mounts the meeke and beats the loftie downe A Name divides the marrow in the bone A Name which out of hard and flintiâ— stone Extracteth hearts of flesh and makes relent Those hearts that never knew what mercy ment O Lord how great 's thy Name in all the Land How mighty are the wonders of thy hand How is thy glory plac't above the heaven To tender mouthes of Sucklings thou hast given Coercive pow'r and boldnesse to reproove When elder men doe what them not behoove O Lord how great 's the power of thine hand O God! how great 's thy Name in all the Land THE ARGVMENT The Prophet doth his fault discover Perswadeâ— the men to cast him over They row and toyle but doe no good They pray to be excus'd from blood Sect. 5. SO Ionah fram'd this speech to their demand Not that I seeke to traverse the command Of my deare Lord and out of minde perverse T' avoid the Ninivites doe I amerâ—e My selfe Nor that I ever heard you threat Vnlesse I went to Niniveh the great And doe the message sent her from the Lord That you would kill or cast me over-boord Doe I doe thiâ— 'T is my deserved fine You all are guiltlesse and the fault is mine T is I ' tâ—â— I alone 't is I am he The tempest comes from heaven the cause from me You shall not lose a haire â—or this my sâ—â— Nor perish for the fault that mine hath bin Lo I the man am here Lâ— I am he The root of all End your revenâ—e on me I fled th' Eternall God O let me then Because I fled my God so flie from men Redeeme your lives with mine Ah why should I Not guiltlesse live and you not guilty die I am the man for whom these billowes dance My death shall purchase your deliverance Feare not to cease your feares but throw me in Alas my soule is burthen'd with my sin And God is just and bent to his Decree Which certaine is and cannot alter'd be I am proclaim'd a Traitor to the King Of heaven an earth The windes with speedy wing Acquaint the Seas The Seas mount up on high And cannot rest untill the Traytor die Oh cast me in and let my life be ended Let Death make Iustice mends which Life offended Oh let the swellinâ— waters me enbalme So shall the Waves be still and Sea be calme So said th' amazed Mariners grew sad New Love abstracted what old Feare did adde Love called Pity Feare call'd vengeance in Love view'd the Sinner Feare beheld the Sin Love cry'd out Hold for better sav'd than spil'd But Feare cry'd Kill O better kill than kill'd Thus plung'd with Passions they distracted were Betwixt the hopes and doubts of Love and Feare Some cry'd out Save if this foule deed we doe Vengeance that haunted him will haunt us too Others cry'd No May rather death befall To one that hath deserv'd to dye then all Save him sayes one Oh save the man that thus His dearest blood hath profer'd to save us No sayes another vengeance must have blood And vengeance strikes most hard when most withstood In fine say all Then let the Prophet die And we shall live For Prophets cannot lye Loth to be guilty of their owne yet loth To haste poore Ionahs death with hope that both Th' approching evils might be at once prevented With prayers and paines reutter'd reattented They try'd new wayes despairing of the old Love quickens courage makes the spirits bold They strove in vaine by toile to win the shore And wrought more hard than erâ—e they did before But now both hands and hearts begin to quaile For bodies wanting rest must faint and faile The Seas are angry and the waves arise Appeas'd with nothing but a Sacrifice Gods vengeance stormeth like the raging Seas Which nought but Ionah dying can appease Fond is that labour which attempts to free What Heaven hath bound by a divine decree Ionah must die Heaven hath decreed it so Ionah must die or else they all die too Ionah must die that from his Lord did flie The Lott determines Ionah then must die His guilty word confirmes the sacred Lott Ionah must die then if they perish not If Iustice then appoint since he must die Said they us Actors of â—is Tragedy We beg not Lord a warrant to offend O pardon blood-shed that we must intend Though not our hands yet shall our hearts be cleare Then let not stainlesse consciences beare The pond'rous burden of a Murders guilt Or pay the price of blood that must be spilt For 〈◊〉 deare Lord it is thine owne decree And we sad ministers of Iustice be Meditat. 5. BVt stay a while this thing would first be known Can Ionah give himselfe and not his owne That part to God and to his Countrey this Pertaines so that a slender third is his Why then should Ionah doe a double wrong To deale himselfe away that did belong The least unto himselfe or how could hee Teach this Thou shalt not kill if Ionah be His life 's owne Butcher What was this a deed That with the Calling he profest agreed The purblinde age whose workes almost divine Did meerely with the oyle of Nature shine That knew no written Law nor Grace nor God To whip their conscience with a steely rod How much did they abhorre so foule a fact When led by Natures glimpse they made an act Selfe-murderers should be deny'd to have The charitable honour of a Grave Can such doe so when Ionah does amisse What Ionas Isr'els Teacher and doe this The Law of Charity doth all forbid In this thing to doe that which Ionah did Moreo're in charity 't is thy behest Of dying men to thinke and speake the best The mighty Samson did as much as this And who dare say that Samson did amisse If heavens high Spirit whisper'd in his eare Expresse command to doe 't No wavering feare Drew backe the righteous Abram's armed hand From Isaacks death secur'd by heavens command ¶ Sure is the knot that true Religion tyes And Love that 's rightly grounded never dyes It seemes a paradoxe beyond beliefe That men in trouble should prolong reliefe That Pagans to withstand a
try'd Yet hath his boldnesse termâ—d himselfe upright And tax't th' Almighty for not doing right His Innocence with Heaven doth he plead And that unjustly he was punished O Purity by Impudence suborn'd He scorn'd his Maker and is justly scorn'd Farre be it from the heart of man that He Who is all Iustice yet unjust should be Each one shall reape the harvest he hath sowne His meed shall measure what his hands hath done Who is 't can claim the Worlds great Soveraignty Who rais'd the Rafters of the Heavens but He If God should breathe on man or take away The breath he gave him what were man but Clay O let thy heart th' unbridled tongue conuince Say Dare thy lips defame an earthly Prince How darst thou then maligne the King of Kings To whom great Princes are but poorest things He kicks down kingdoms spurns th'emperial crown And with his blast puffes mighty Monarchs down 'T is vaine to strive with him and if he strike Our part 's to beare not fondly to mislike Misconstruing the nature of his drift But husband his corrections to our thrift If he afflict our best is to implore His â—lessing with his Rod and sin no more What if our torments passe the bounds of measure It unbefits our wils to stint his pleasure Iudge then and let th' impartiall world advise How farre poore Iob thy judgement is from wise Nor are these speeches kindled with the fire Of a distempred spleene but with desire T' inrich thy wisdome lest thy fury tye Presumption to thy rash infirmity Meditat. 16. FOr mortals to be borne waxe old and dye Lyes not in Will but bare Necessity Common to beasts which in the selfe degree Hold by the selfe-same Patient even as we But to be wiâ—e is a diviner action Of the discursive Soule a pure abstraction Of all her powers united in the Will Ayming at Good rejecting what is Ill It is an Influence of inspired breath Vnpurchased by birth unlost by death Entail'd to no man no not free to all Yet gently answers to the eager cal Of those that with inflam'd affections seeke Respecting tender youth and age alike In depth of dayes her spirit not alway lyes Yeeres make man Old but heaven returnes him Wise Youths Innocence nor riper ages strength Can challenge her as due Desired length Of dayes produced to decrepit yeeres Fill'd with experience and grizly hayres Can claime no right th' Almighty ne're engages His gifts to times nor is he bound to Ages His quickning Spirit to sucklings oft reveales What to their doting Grandsires he conceales The vertue of his breath can unbenumme The frozen lips and strike the speaker dumme Who put that moving power into his tongue Whose lips did right the chast Susanna's wrong Vpon her wanton false Accusers death What secret fire inflam'd that fainting breath That blasted Pharo Or those ruder tongues That schoold the faithlesse Prophet for the wrongs He did to sacred Iustice matters not How sleight the meane be in it selfe or what In our esteemes so wisedome be the message Embassadours are worthied in th'Embassage God sowes his harvest to his best increase And glorifies himselfe how e're he please Lord if thou wilt for what is hard to thee I may a Factour for thy glory bee Then grant that like a faithfull servant I May render backe thy stocke with Vsury THE ARGVMENT God reapes no gaine by mans best deeds Mans misery from himselfe proceeds Gods Mercy and Iustice are unbounded In workes of Nature man is grounded Sect. 17. ELihu thus his pausing lips againe Disclos'd said rash Ioâ— dost thou maintaine A rightfull cause which in conclusion must A vow thee blamelesse and thy God unjust Thy lawlesse words implying that it can Advantage none to live an upright man My tongue shall schoole thee and thy friends that would Perchance refell thy reasons if they could Behold thy glorious Makers greatnesse see The power of his hand say then can He Be damag'd by thy sinne or can He raise Advantage by the uprightnesse of thy wayes True the afflicted languish oft in griefe And roare to heaven unanswer'd for reliefe Yet is not Heaven unjust for their fond cry Their sinne bewailes not but their misery Cease then to make him guilty of thy crimes And waite his pleasure that 's not bound to times Nor heares vaine words The sorrowes thou art in Are sleight or nothing ballanc'd with thy sin Thy lips accuse thee and thy foolish tongue To right thy selfe hath done th' Almighty wrong Hold back thine answer let thy flowing streame Find passage to surround my fruitfull Theame I 'le raise my thoughts to plead my Makers case And speake as shall befit so high a place Behold th' Almighitie's meeke as well as strong Destroyes the wicked rights the just mans wrong Mounts him to honour If by chance he stray Instructs and shewes him where he lost his way If he returne his blessing shall encrease Crowning his joyes with plenty and sweet peace If not th' intailed sword shall ne're depart His stained house but pierce his hardned heart Ah sinfull Iob these plagues had never bin Had'st thou beene guiltlesse as thou boasts of sin But thy proud lips against their Maker plead And draw downe heapes of vengeance on thy head Looke to thy selfe seek not to understand The secret causes of th' Eternals hand Let wisdome make the best of misery Know who inflicts it aske no reason why He will's beyond thy reach and his Divine And sacred knowledge farre surpasseth thine Ah! rather praise him in his workes that lye Wide open to the world before thine eye His meaner Acts our highest thoughts o'retops He pricks the clouds stils down the raine by drops Who comprehends the lightning or the thunder Who sees who heares theÌ„ unamaz'd with wonder My troubled heart chils in my quivering brest To relish these things and is dispossest Of all her powers who ever heard the voyce Of th' angry heavens unfrighted at the noyse The beast by nature daz'd with sudden dread Seekes out for covert to secure his head If God command the dusky clouds march forth Into a Tempest From the freezing North He beckens Frost and Snow and from the South He bloweth Whirlewinds with his angry Mouth Presumptuous Ioâ— if thou canst not aspire So high to comprehend these things admire Know'st thou the progresse of the rambling clouds From mortal eyes when gloomy darkness shrouds The lamps of heaven know'st thou the reason why Can'st thou unriddle heavens Philosophy Know'st thou th' unconstant nature of the weather Or whence so many Winds proceed and whither Wer 't thou made privy or a standerâ—by When God stretcht forth his spangled Canopy Submit thy selfe and let these secâ—ets teach How farre his Myst'ries doe surmount thy reach For Hee 's Almighty and his sacred will Is just nor renders an unearned ill His workes are objects for no soaring eyes But wheresoe're he lookes he findes none wise Meditat. 17. THe World
gnaw Prometheus And let poore Ixion turne his endlesse wheele Let Nemesis torment with whips of steele They far come short t' expresse the paines of those That rage in Hell enwrapt in endlesse woes Where time no end and plaguâ—s finde no exemption Where cryes admit no helpe nor place redemption Where fier lacks no flame the flame no beat To make their torments sharpe and plagues compleaâ— Where wretched Soules to tortures bound shall beâ— Serving a world of yeares and not be Freâ— Where nothing's heard but yells and sudden cryes Where â—ier never flakes nor Worme e're dyes But where this Hell is plac'd my Muse stop there Lord shew me what it is but never where Mors tua 1. ¶ CAn he be faire that withers at a blast Or he be strong that ayery Breath can cast Can he be wise that knowes not how to live Or hee be rich that nothing hath to give Can he be young that 's feeble weake and wan So faire strong wise so rich so young is mâ—n So faire is Man that Death a parting Blast Blasts his faire flow'r and makes him Earth at last So strong is Man that with a gasping Breath Hee totters and bequeathes his strength to Deatâ— So wise is Man that if with Death he strive His wisedome cannot teach him how to live So rich is Man that all his Debts b'ing paid His wealth 's the winding-sheet wherein he 's laid So yong is Man that broke with care and sorrow He 's old enough to day to Dye to morrow Why brag'st thou theÌ„ thou worm of five-foot long Th' art neither faire nor strong nor wise nor rich nor 〈◊〉 Mors Christi 2. I Thurst and who shall quench this eager Thurst I grieve and with my griefe my heart will burst I grieve because I thurst without reliefe I thurst because my Soule is burnt with griefe I thurst and dry'd with griefe my heart will dye I grieve and thurst the more for Sorrow's dry The more I grieve the more my thurst appeares Would God I had not griev'd out all my teares I thurst and yet my griefes have made a Floud But teares are salt I grieve and thurst for blood I grieve for blood must send reliefe I thurst for blood for blood for blood must ease my griefe I thurst for sacred blood of a deare Lambe I grieve to thinke from whence that deare blood came 'T was shed for me O let me drinke my fill Although my griefe remaine entier still O soveraigne pow'r of that Vermilian Spring Whose vertue neither heart coÌ„ceives nor tongue can sing Fraus Mundi 3. I Love the World as Clients love the Lawes To manage the uprightnesse of my Cause The World loves me as Shepheards doe their flockes To rob and spoile them of their fleecy lockes I love the World and use it as mine Inne To bait and rest my tyred sarkeise in The World loves me For what To make her 〈◊〉 For filthy sinne she sels me timely shame She 's like the Basiliske by whose sharpe eyes The living object first discover'd dyes Forth from her eyes empoysoned beames do durâ—â— Dyes like a Basiliske discerned first We live at jarres as froward Gamesters doe Still guarding nor regarding others foe I love the World to serve my turne and leave her 'T is no deceit to coâ—zen a Deceiver She 'll not misse me I lesse the world shall misse To lose a world of griefe t' enjoy a world of Blâ—sse Gloria Coeli 4. EArth stands immov'd and fixt her situation Admits no locall change no alteration Heaven alway moves renewing still his place And ever sees us with another Face Earth standeth fixt yet there I live opprest Heaven alway mooves yet there is all my rest Enlarge thy selfe my Soule with meditation Mount there and there bespeake thy habitatioâ— Where joies are full pure not mixt with mourniâ—â— All endlesse and from which is no returning No theft no cruell murther harbours there No hoary-headed Care no sudden Feare No pinching want no griping-fast oppression Nor Death the stipend of our first transgression But dearest Friendship Love and lasting Plâ—â—sure Still there abides without or stint or measure Fulnesse of Riches comfâ—â—â—t sempeternall Excesse without a surfetting And Life Eternall Dolor Inferni 5. THe Trump shall blow the dead awak'd shal rise And to the Clouds shall turn their wondring eies The heav'ns shal ope the Bridegroom forth shal come To judge the World and give the World her doome Ioy to the Iust to others endlesse smart To those the Voyce bids Come to these Depart Depart from Life yet dying live for ever For ever dying be and yet Dye never Depart like Dogs with Devils take your lot Depart like Devils for I know you not Like Dogs like Devils goe Goe howle and barke Depart in darknesse for your deeds were darke Let râ—aring be your Musicke and your Food Be flesh of Vipers and your drinke their blood Let Fiends afflict you with Reproach and Shame Depart depart into Eternall Flame If Hell the Guerdon then of Sinners be Lord give me Hell on earth Lord give mee heav'n with thee vv vv Iam deâ—ine Tibia versus FINIS Hadassa Horat. Ode 6. â—onamur tenues grandia nec pudor â—mbellisque Lyrae Musapotens vetat By Fra. Quarles LONDON Printed for IOHN MARRIOT 1632. A PREFACE TO THE READER A Sober veine best suits Theologie If therefore thou expect'st such Elegancy as takes the times affect some subject as will beare it Had I laboured with over-abundaÌ„ce of fictions or flourishes perhaps they had exposed mee censurable and disprized this sacred subject Therefore I rest more sparing in that kinde Two things I would treate of First the matter secondly the manner of this History As for the matter so farre as I have dealt it is Canonicall and indited by the holy Spirit of God not lyable to errour and needs no blanching In it Theologie sits as Queene attended by her handmaid Philosophy both concurring to make the understanding Reader a good Divine and a wise Moralist As for the Divinitie it discovers the Almighty in his two great Attributes in his Mercy delivering his Church in his Iustice confounding her enemies As for the Morality it offers to us the whole practick part of Philosophy dealt 〈◊〉 into Ethicks Politicks and Oeconomickâ— 1. The Ethical part the object wherof is thâ— manners of a private man ranges throâ—â—â— the whole booke and empties it selfe 〈◊〉 the Catalogue of Morall vertues either thâ—â— that governe the body as Fortitude Châ—â— 9. 2. and Temperance Chap. 1. 8. or thoâ—â— which direct the soule either in outwaâ—â— things as Liberalitie Chap 1. 3. Magnifâ—cence Chap. 1. 6. Magnanimity Chap. 2. â— and Modesty Chap. 6. 12. or in conversatioâ— as Iustice Chap. 7. 9. Mansuetude Chap 5 c. 2. The Politicall part the object whereof publike Societie instructs first in the behaviour of a Prince to his Subject in punishâ—â— his vice Chap 7. 10. in rewarding of vertuâ—
but in thy heart alone 〈◊〉 Ioy I prize farre dearer then my owne 〈◊〉 then shouldst thou deceive me and impart Sâ—â—oule a falshood to so true a heart Câ—me grant my suite and let that faithlesse tongue Make love amends which hath done love this wrong To whom dissembling Samson thus replied Take twisted ropes whose strength was never tryed And tye these closed hands together then I shall be fact and weake as other men With that she bound him close and having made The knot more suer then her love's she said Samson arise and take thy strength vpon thee Samson make hast the Philistines are on thee He straight arose and as a striving hand Would breake a Sisters thred he crackt the band That bound his arms he crackt the bands insunder But frowning Delila whose heart did wonder No lesse then vexe being fill'd with discontent She said False lover If thy heart had meant What thy faire tongue had formerly profest Thou nere hadst kept thy secrets from my brest Wherein hath Delila bin found unjust Not to deserve the honour of thy trust Wherein have I beene faithlesse of disloyall Or what request of thine are found denyall Had I but bin so wise as to deny Samson might beg'd and misâ— as well as I But 't is my fortune still to be most free To those as are the â—est reserv'd to me Be not ingratefull Samson If my brest Were but as false as thine is hard I 'd rest To tempt thy silence or to move my suite Speake then but speake the truth or else be mute To whom fond Samson If thy hands would tye These locks to yonder Beame they will diserie My native weâ—knesse and thy Samson then Would be as poore in strength as other men So said her busie fingers soone obey'd His locks being platted to the beame she said Samson bestirre thee and let thy power appeare Samson take heed the Philistines are here With that he quits the place whereon he lay Fallne fast asleepe and bore the Beame away Meditat. 21. SEe how the crafty Serpent twists and windes Into the brest of man What paths he findes And crooked by-wayes With how sweet a baite He hides the hooke of his inveterate hate What suger'd words and eare-delighting Art He uses to supplant the yeelding heart Of poore deceived man who stands and trusts Vpon the broken staffe of his false â—â—â—sts He tempts allures suggests and in conclusion Makes Man the Pander to his owne confusion The fruit was faire and pleasing to the eyes Apt to breed knowledge and to make them wise Must they not taste so faire a fruit not touch Yes doe T will make you Gods and know as much As he that made it Thinke you you can fall Into deaths hands Yee shall not dye at all Thus fell poore man his knowledge proved such Better ' thad bin he had not knowne so much Thus this old Serpent takes advantage still On our desiers and distemperd will Art thou growne Covetous wouldst thou faine be rich He comes and strikes thy heart with the dry itch Of having Wealth will rouze thy heartles friends Make thee a potent Master of thy Ends 'T will bring thee honour make thy suites at Law Prosper at will and keepe thy Foes in awe Art thou Ambitious He will kindle fire In thy proud thoughts make thy thoughts aspire â—ee'l come and teach thy honour how to scorne 〈◊〉 old acquaintance whom thou hast outworne 〈◊〉 teach thee how to Lord it and advance 〈◊〉 servants fortunes with thy Countenance Wouldst thou enjoy the Pleasures of the flesh 〈◊〉 bring thee wanton Ladies to refresh 〈◊〉 drooping soule He 'l teach thine eyes to wander 〈◊〉 thee how to wooe Hee 'l be thy Pander 〈◊〉 fill thy amorous soule with the sweet passion 〈◊〉 powerfull Love Hee 'l give thee dispensation 〈◊〉 sinne at pleasure He will make thee Slave 〈◊〉 thy own thoughts hee 'l make thee beg crave 〈◊〉 be a drudge hee 'l make thy treacherous breath 〈◊〉 thee and betray thee to thy death Lord if our Father Adam could not stay 〈◊〉 his upright perfection one poore day How can it be expected we have power To hold out Seige one scruple of an hower Our Armes are bound with too unequall bands We cannot strive We cannot loose our hands Great Nazarite awake and looke upon us Make haste to helpe The Philistines are on us THE ARGVMENT She sues againe Samson replies The very truth Her lips betray him They binde him They put out his eyes And to the prison they convey him Sect. 22. WIth that the wanton whose distrustfull eye Was fixt upon reward made this reply Had the deniall of my poore request Proceeded from th'inexorable brest Of one whose open hatred sought t' endanger My haunted life Or had it bin a stranger That wanted so much nature to deny The doing of a common curtesie Nay had it bin a friend that had deceiv'd me An ordinary friend It nere had griev'd me But thou even thou my bosome friend that art The onely joy of my deceived heart Nay thou whose hony-dropping lips so often Did plead thy undissembled love and soften My deare affection which could never yeeld To easier termes By thee to be beguild How often hast thou mockt my slender suite With forged falshood Hadst thou but beene mute Iâ—ere had hop'd But being fairely led Towards my prompt desiers which were fed With my false hopes and thy false-hearted tongue And then beguild I hold it as a wrong How canst thou say thou lov'st me How can I Thinke but thou hat'st me when thy lips deny So poore a Suite Alas my fond desire Had slak'd had not deniall blowne the fire Grant then at last and let thy open brest 〈◊〉 that thou lov'st me ' and grant my faire request Speake or speake not thy Delila shall give ore To urge her lips shall never urge thee more To whom the yeelding Lover thus betrai'd His heart being tortur'd unto death and said My deare my Delila I cannot stand Against so sweet a pleader In thy hand There entrust and to thy brest impart In Samsons life and secrets of his heart 〈◊〉 then my Delila that I was borne â—Nazarite These locks were never shorne 〈◊〉 Raisar yet came ere upon my crowne There lies my strength with theÌ„ my strength is gone 〈◊〉 they but shaven my Delila O then In Samson should be weake as other men No sooner had he spoken but he spred His body on the floore his drowzy head 〈◊〉 pillow'd on her lap untill at last He fell into a sleepe and being fast She clipt his locks from off his carelesse head And beckning the Philistians in she said Samson awake Take strength and courage on thee Samson arise The Philistines are on thee Even as a Dove whose wings are clipt for flying Flutters her idle stumps and still 's relying Vpon her wonted refuge strives in vaine To quit her life from danger and attaine The freedome of her
Prayer for the distressed people of Ierusalem and Sion GReat God before whose all-discerning eye The secret corners of mans heart doe lye As open as his actions which no Clowd Of secresie can shade no shade can shrowd Behold the Teares O hearken to the Cryes Of thy poore Sion Wipe her weeping eyes Binde up her bleeding wounds ô thou that art The best Chirurgeon for a broken heart See how the barb'rous Gentiles have intruded Into the Land of promise and excluded Those rightfull Owners from their just possessions That wander now full laden with oppressions Our Fathers ah their savage hands have slaine Whose deaths our Widdow-mothers weepe in vaine Our Springs whose Christall plenty once disburst Their bounteous favours to quench every thirst Our liberall Woods whose palsie-shaken tops To every stranger bow'd their yeelding lops Are sold to us that have no price to pay But sweat and toyle the sorrowes of the day Oppressors trample on our servile necks We never cease to groane nor they to vexe Famine and Dearth haue taught our hands t' extend To Ashur and our feeble knees to bend To churlish Pharoe Want of bread compells Thy servants to begge Almes of Infidels Our wretched Fathers sinn'd and yet they sleepe In peace and have left us their sonnes to weepe We we extracted from their sinfull loynes Are guilty of their sinnes Their Ossa joynes To our high Pelion Ah! their crimes doe stand More firmly ' entailed to us than our Land We are the slaves of servants and the scorne Of slaves of all forsaken and forlorne Hunger hath forc'd us to acquire our food With deepest danger of our dearest blood Our skins are wrinckled and the fruitlesse ploughs Of want have fallow'd up our barren browes Within that Sion which thy hands did build Our Wives were ravisht and our Maids defil'd Our savage Foe extends his barb'rous rage To all not sparing Sexe nor Youth nor Age They hang our Princes on the shamefull trees Of death respect no Persons no Degrees Our Elders are despised whose gray hayres Are but the Index of their doting yeares Our flowring youth are forced to fulfill Their painfull taskes in the laborious Mill Our children faint beneath their loads and cry Opprest with burdens under which they lie Sages are banisht foâ—â— Iudiciall Courts And youth takes no delight in youthfull sports Our joyes are gone and promise no returning Our pleasure 's turnd to paine our mirth to mourning Our hand hath lost her sword Our Head his Crowne Our Church her glory our Weale her high renowne Lord we have sinn'd and these our sins have brought This world of griefe O purchase dearely bought From hence our sorrowes and from hence our feares Proceed for this our eyes are blinde with teares But that aye that which my poore heart doth count Her sharpest torture is thy sacred Mount Sacred Mount Sion Sion that divine Seat of thy glory 's raz'd her tender Vine Laden with swelling Clusters is destroy'd And Foxes now what once thy Lambs enjoy'd But thou O thou eternall God whose Throne Is permanent whose glory 's ever one Vnapt for Change abiding still the same Though Earth consume Heaven dissolve her frame Why dost thou ah why dost thou thus absent Thy glorious face Oh wherefore hast thou rent Thy Mercy from us O! when wilt thou be Atton'd to them that have no trust but Thee Restore us Lord and let our soules possesse Our wonted peace O let thy Hand redresse Our wasted fortunes Let thine Eye behold Thy scattered Flock and drive them to their Fold Canst thou reject that people which thy Hand Hath chose and planted in the promis'd Land O thou the Spring of mercy wilt thou send No ease to our Afflictions no end The end AN ALPHABET OF ELEGIES VPON The much and truly lamented death of that famous for Learning Pietie and true Friendship Doctor AILMER A great favourer and fast friend to the Muses and late Arch-deacon of LONDON Imprinted in his Heart that ever loves his Memorie Written by FRA QVARLES Cum privilegio Amoris Doloris Dignum laude virum Musa vetat morâ— READERS GIve me leave to performe a necessary duty which my affection owes to the blesâ—ed memory of that reverend Prelate my much â—onoured Friend Doctor Ailmer Hee was one whose life and death made as full and perfect a Story of worth and goodnesse as earth would suffer and whose pregnant vertues deserve as faithfull a Register as earth can keepe In whose happy remembrance I have here â—â—usted these Elegies to Time and your favours Had he bin a Lampe to light me alone my priâ—ate griefes had beene sufficient but being a Sunne whose beames reflected on all all have 〈◊〉 interest in his memory To which end I recommend these memorialls to the publike in testimony of my undissembled affection and true pietie that I owe to so great an example of Vertue and Learning F. Q. FVNERALL ELEGIES ELEG 1. All you whose eies would learn to weepe draw neere And heare what none without full teares and hear Come marble eyes as marble as your hearts I 'le teach you how to weepe a teare in parts And you false eyes that never yet let fall A teare in earnest come and now ye shall Send forth salt fountaines of the truest griefe That ever sought to Language for reliefe But you you tender eyes that cannot beare An Elegie wept forth without a teare I warne you hence or at the most passe by Lest while you stay you soone dissolve and dye ELEG 2. BVt stay sad Genius How doe griefes transport Thy exil'd senses Is there no resort To forkt Parnassus sacred Mount No word No thought of Helicon No Muse implor'd I did invoke but there was none reply'd The nine were silent since Mâ—â—aenas dy'd They have forsaken their old Spring 't is said They haunt a new one which their tears have made Should I molest them with my losse 'T is knowne They finde enough to re-lament their owne I crave no ayde no Deity to infuse New matter Ah True sorrow needs no Muse. ELEG 3. CAll back bright Phoebus your sky-wandring steeds Your day is tedious and our sorrow needs No Sun When our sad soules have lost their light Why should our eyes not finde perpetuall night Goe to the nether world and let your rayes Shine there Bestow on them our share of dayes But say not Why lest when report shall show Such cause of griefe they fall a grieving too And pray the absence of your restlesse wayne Which then must be return'd on us againe Deare Phoebus graunt my suit if thou denie 't My teares shall blinde me and so make a night ELEG 4. DEath art thou growne so nice can nothing please Thy curious palate but such Cates as these Or hath thy ravenous stomach beene o'represt With common diet at thy last great feast 1625 Or hast thou fed so neere that there is none Now left but delicates to feed upon Or was this dish so