whereunto Thy Death or Sicknesse will no service do Nay if thou now miscarry where will be Those honest hopes which late possessed thee To â—hose thy Studies who an end shall adde Which but a while agoe beginning had And being left unfinisht make the paine And houres upon them spent to be in vaine With somewhat thou endued art whereby Thou maâ—st thy blessed Maker glorifie Thy selfe advantage and a joy become To such as well affect thee and 'gainst whom If thus thy selfe thou separate thou shalt Commit a most inexpiable fault Oh! theâ—efore I beseech thee wary be To thinke what service God requires of thee Think what thou wâ—st thy selfe and call to mind That some wel-willeâ—s thou maist leave behinde Whose hopes thou should'st not wilfully bereave Whose loves thou should'st not unrequited leave By hazarding thy Life which is a debt To their deservings For thou know'st not yet How that may grieve thy soule or fill thy head With troubled sancies oâ— thy dying-bed I cannot make dâ—scovery by all My faculties and poâ—'rs rationall What worke thoâ— maist imagine should be done Tâ—at's worthy of the hazard thou dost run Nor can as yet my understanding reach What hope soever Faith may please to preâ—ch To those Felicities which after death Her supernaturall Doctrines promiseth Nor finde I sucâ— assurances aâ— may Preserve thee unaffrighted in thy stay For when within my Naturall Scale I place Those Arguments and Promises of Grace Which Faith alledgeth they so ayrie prove That they my Ballance very little move Yea such transcendent things declareth she As they me thinks should so distemper thee That doubts and terrors rather should possesse Thy Soule then hopes of reall â—appinesse Since what in Death or after Death shall come Are things that Nature is estranged from Fly therefore this great perill Seeke a place Where thou maist plead more safely of thy Case And since thy God with Reason thee doth blesse Now most thou need'st it be not reasonlesse All this and what the caâ—nall wit of man Object in such an undertaking can Did Râ—ASON urge to make my stay appeare An act impâ—ovident and full of feare And what her seeming rightfull câ—use advances Was utt'red with such dreadfull ciâ—cumstances That she did halâ—e peâ—swade me to confesse My Resolution would be foolishnesse But when my Râ—ASON had no more to speake My FAITH began though her stâ—ength was weak Because my â—railties had enfeebled her Yet then I felt her with more vigour stir Then in lesse perills For she blew aside Those fogs wheâ—ewith my heart was tâ—rrifi'd Made cleare my Iudgement and as having waâ—gh'd The speech fâ—regoing thus me thought she said How wise is REASON in an Ethnicke Schoole And in divine proceedings what a foole How many likely things she musâ—er can To startle and amaze a naturall man Wâ—ich when I am advis'd withall are found But pannick feares and terrors without ground And yet how often doth blinde Ignorancâ— Above my reach her shallownesse advance Or else of madnesse wickedly condemne My wisdome and my safest paths contemne Yet be not thou my Soule deceived by The foolishnesse of humane Sophistry But since by thy Afflictions thou hast got Expâ—rience which the world attaineth not Give heed to me and I will make thee know Those things which carnall Reason cannot show Yea make thee by my pow'r more certaine be Of that which mortals can nor heare nor see Then of the plainest objects that appeare Vnto the sense of corp'rall eye or eare And though my promise or my counsell seeme To vulgar Iudgements but of meane esteeme I le so enable theâ— those seares to bide Wâ—erewiâ—h the worldly-wise are terrifi'd And teach thee such contentednesse to gaine Though in Deaths gloomy shades thou dost remaine That thou without all doubtings shalt perceive Thou shouldst not this afflicted Citie leave And Flesh and Blood with wonder shall confessâ— That Faith hath pow'r to teach men fearlesnesse Iâ— perils which do make their hearts to ake Who scoffe at her and part with Reason take It cannot be denyed that this Place Yeelds dread enough to make the boldest face To put a palenesse on unlesse the minde Be over much to senâ—â—esnesse enclinde Because we nat'rally abhor to see Such loathed objects of mortality ' Tâ—s also true that there is no defence To guard the body from this Pesâ—ilence Within the compasse of mans powâ—r or wit Nor can thy merit so prevaile with it But that for ought thou knowest thou maist fâ—ll The growing number of Deathâ— weekly Bill And what of that whìlst I befriend thee shall Caâ— such a common danger thee apalâ— Shall that which heath'nish men and women beare Yea tender infants without shewes of feare Amate thy spirit shall the drawing nigh Of that from which thou hasâ— no meanes to â—â—ye And which thou walkest toward ev'ry day With seeming stouâ—nesse fright thee now away Is Death so busie growâ—e in London streets That hâ— with no man in thâ— Country meâ—ts Beleeveâ—â— thou the number he hath slaine Hath added any thing unto the paine Or hast thou lately apprehended more Deaths fearfull gast linâ—sse then heretofore That in this time of tryall thou shouldst finde Thy Soule to slavish Cowardice enclinde Death is that Path which ev'ry man must tread Aâ—d wheâ— thou shalt dâ—scend among the dead Thou go'st but thither where thy fathers be And whither all that live shall follow thee Death is that Haven where tâ—y Barke shall casâ— Her hopefull Anchor and lye moored fast Exempted from those furious windes and seas VVhich in thy heav'nly voyage thee diseasâ— Death iâ— thâ— Iaile-deliv'ry of â—he Soule Thy joyfull yeare of Iubilee thy Goale The Day that ends thy sorrowes and thy sins And that wherein best happinesse begins A lawfull act then wherefore shouldst thou feare To prosecute although thy death it were Full oft have I enabled thee to bide The brunt of dreadfâ—ll stormes unterrifide And when thy dastard Reason not espying That heav'nly Game at which thy Faith was flying Diâ—heartned grew I did thy body free From ev'ry pâ—rill which enclosed thee So working that those thinâ—s thy praise became Which Malice had projected for thy shame And common Reason who suppos'd thee mad Did blush to see how little wiâ— she had Yet now againe how fâ—olishly she tryes To cast new fogs bâ—fore thy Iudgements eyes â—hat childish Bug-Beaâ—es hath she musâ—red â—ere To scar tâ—y senses with a causelesse fâ—are Of those loath'd Objects wherefore doth she tell Which vâ—x the sight the hearing and the smell Since when the utmost of it shall be said All is but Death which can but strike thee dead And when that 's done thou shalt by me revived Enjoy a better life then thou hasâ— lived If those hobgoblin terrors of the grave Wherewith meere nat'rall men affrighted have Their troubled soules deterre thee from that path Whereto the will of God injoined hath To thee oh Soule how dreadfull would it be If WARRE with all
her feares enclosed thee Nay if such common terrors thee amaze How wouldst thou quake if in a generall blaze The world should flame about thee as it may Perhaps before thou see another day Sure if these Scar-crowes do detâ—rre thee so Thou scarce wilt welcome as thou oughtst to do That Moment when it comes nor so rejoyce As they who long to heare the Bridegroomes voice Here therefore stay and practise to inure Thy soule to tryalls that thou maist endure All changâ—s which in after times may come And wait with gladnesse for the Day of Doome Seeke here by holy dread to purge away Those Crimes which heape up terrors for that day Endure the scorching of this gentle fire To purifie thy heart from vaine desire Learne here the death of righteous men to dye That thou maist live with such eternally Hâ—re exercise thy Faith and watch and pray That when thy body shall be mixt with clay The frighâ—full Trumpet whose amazing sound Shall startle Hâ—ll and shake earths massie Round May make thee leape with gladnesse from thy grave And no sad horrors in thy Conscience have What canst thou hope to purchase here below That thou shouldst life unwillingly for goe Since there is nothing which thou canst possesse Whose sweetnesse is not marr'd with bitternesse Nor any thing so safe but that it may To thâ—e become a mischiefe many a way If honourable thou mightst live to grow That honor may effect thy overthrow And as it makes of others make of thee A thing as blockish as bruit creatures be If Rich those Riches may thy life betray Choake up thy vertues and then flye awâ—y If Pleasure follow thee that pleasing vaine May bring thy soule to everlasting paine Yea that which most thou longest to eâ—joy May all the pleasures of thy life destroy Seeke therefore true coâ—tâ—nâ—ment where it lies And feare not ev'ry Bâ—bies fantasies If Life thou love Death is that entring in Where life which is eternall doth begin There what thou most desirest is enjoy'd And Death it selfe by dying is destroy'd Though length of life a blessing be confest Yet length of dayes in sorrow is not best Although the Saylor sea-roome doth require To reach the harbour is his chiefe desire And though 't is well our debts may be delay'd Yet we are best at ease when they are paid If â—itleâ— thou aspire unto Death brings The Faithfull to become immortall Kings Whose glorie passeth earthâ—y pomp as far As Phoebus doth outshine the Morning-star Desirest thou a pleasant healthfull dwelling By Death thou gain'st a Country so excelling That plenty of all usâ—full things is there And all â—hose objects that delightfull are A golden pavement thou shâ—lt walke upon And lodge in Buildings wall'd with precious stone If in rich Garmenâ—s to be cloath'd thou seeke The Persian Monâ—rks never had the like For Puritie it selfe thy Robe shall be And like the Stars thy Crowne shall sâ—ine on thee Hast thou enjoyed those companions here VVhose love and fellowship delightfull are Thou shalt when thou from sight of those art gone Of that high Order be installed one VVhich never did false Brother entertaine VVhereof ev'n God himselfe is Soveraigne And in whose company thou shalt possesse All perfect deare and lasting friendlinesse Yea there ev'n those whom thou on earth hast loâ—ed â—nâ—â—se time with such love as is approved Thou shalt enjoy againe and not alonâ— Their friendship but the love of ev'ry one Of those blest men and women who both were And are and shall be till our Iudge appeare Hath any mortall beauty pleas'd thee so That from her presence thou â—rt loath to goe Thou shalt in stead of those poore imperfections VVhâ—râ—on thou setlest here unsure affections The Fountaine of all Beauties come to see Wiâ—hin his lovely bosome lodged be And know when thou on him hast fixt thine eyeâ— That all earths Beauties are deformities To these and happinesses greater far Then by the heart of man conceived are Death maketh passage And how grim soe're He may to those that stand alooâ—â— appeare Yet if thou bide unmoved in thy place Till he within his armes doe thee embrace Thou shâ—lt perceive that who so timely dieth Enjoyes contentments which this life denyeth Thy feare of painfulnesse in death is vainâ— In Death is easâ— in Life alone is paine Man makes it â—readfull by his owne inventions By causelesse doubts and groundlesse apprehensions But when it comes it brings of paine no more Then Sleepe to him that restlesse was before Thy Soules departurâ— from the Flesh doth maze And thee afflicteth more then there is cause For of his sting thy Saviouâ— Death despoiled And feares and dangers from the Grave exiled Thou losest not try Body when it dyes Nor doth it perish though it putrifies For when the time appointed it hath laine It shall be raised from the dust againe And in the sâ—ead of this corrupted one Thy Soule a glorious Body shall put on But hadst thou not a Faith which might procure theâ— Such comforts and such life in death assure thee Or though thou shouldst by dying be possest Of nothing else but of a senselesse rest Me thinkes thy â—arnall Reason should for that Perswade thee rather to be desperate And stay and seeke for Death e'â—e languish in Perpetuall sorrowes such as thine have biâ— For if to God-ward â—oy thou foelest not What comfort to the world-ward â—ast thou got Which may desirous make thee to delay Or linger out thy life another day 'T is true that God hath given thee a share Iâ— all thosâ— Pleasures that good pleasures are And to the Giverâ— glory be iâ— spoken Hâ—e hath bestow'd on thee as many a â—okâ—n Of his abundant love as he bestowes On any with so sew external shâ—wes For ev'n of outward things he doth impart As much as fits the place in which thou art With full as many pleasures as may serve Thy Patience in thy suffâ—ings to preserve And when for Rest and Plenties thou art fitter I know he will not make thy cup so bittâ—r But if thou live for outwar'd pleasures meerly By living thou dost buy them over dearly For if thy peace in God were sâ—t aside So many wayes thou hast beene crucifi'd That some would think thy Fortune if they had it Most bitter though most sweet thy hopes have made it Hâ—re but a Pilgrimage thou dost possesse Iâ— wandring and perpetuall restlesnesse Like Travellers in sunshine and in raine Both dâ—y and wet and dry and wet againe With rest each Morning well refreshâ— and merry Aâ—d ev'ry Ev'ning full of griefe and weary To Vanity in bondage thou dost lie Still beaten with new stormes of Misery And in a path to which thou art a stranger Assaulted with variety of Danger His Face sometime is hid whence comforts flow And men and devills seek thy overthrow Sin multiplies upon thee ev'ry day Thy vitall pow'rs will more and more decay Wealth honor friends and what thou best
or on Gods Holiday Are plodding on the world whilâ—t they should bend Their eares to God and on his will attend We have our best proceedings to withstand A Iannes and â—ambâ—es in tâ—e Land Who by their â—orceries continue shall Some people of this Mâ—narchy in â—hrall Vntill a Plague like Aeâ—yptsâ—owsinesse â—owsinesse Shall make them God Almightie pow'r confesse Young Vadabâ— and Aâ—â—hâ—es we have some That with strange fires unto Goâ—s altars come Tâ—â—ir dull devotions kindled are with sticks And wither'd leaves of humane Rhetoricks They offer up to God their vaine Orations Compos'd of Cliâ—bings and Adnominations Which he abhorâ—es with all that frothy stuffe Of which this age hatâ— more then thrice enough Our bâ—ethren by extortion we oppresse True stâ—angeâ— nay our kin are harbouâ—lesse And those oâ—fences we have Patrons for Which many Heathen pâ—ople did abhor With Miriam and with Laron we have such Who at their 〈…〉 preferment grutch Hot spirits troubleâ—omâ— to civill states Like Câ—rahâ—nd â—nd his rude confederates These aâ—gue mach for pâ—p'lar pâ—rities And raile upoâ— all civill diâ—â—itiâ—s But when they can attaine theâ— none speake louder In their deâ—ence nor are there any prouder We Gallants have moâ—e impâ—dent then e're Yong Zâ—nri and his Cazâ—i did appeare And doubtlâ—sse we have 〈◊〉 who â—â—ve hidden Some Babylonish things which are forbidden For all the Land much troubled we may see And many thinke it shall not quiet be Till they be found Reveale thou their transgressions O Lord and be thou prais'd in their confessions We have this day amongst us many a Bramble That like Abimelech knowes how to scramble Abovâ— their owne deservings and though base Vnworthy â—hrubs durst arrogate a place More eminent then dares the noblest Plant Whereof the Mountaine Libanus doth vaunt By others vertâ—es these ascend on high And raise themselves to such authority That our most noble Cedars are o're-topt Our pleasant Figtrees are bâ—scratcht and dropt Our Vines are shadow'd and unfruitfull made Our Olives robbed of that oile they had Yea all our forrest and our garden trees By their ambition fruit or honour leese Thou nourisht hast and fondly doted on Those cunning Dalilahs who having won Thy good respect doe practise how to spye Wherein the chiefest of our strength doth lye That having by their flatt'ries lull'd asleepe Those watchmeÌ„s eyes that should our fortress keep They may unheeded steal our pow'r away And to our greatest Foes our lives betray Here want not such as Michah who with ease Can make a new Religion when they please Coine â—ormes of worship proper to their Sect A private Church among themselves erect Make Priests at their owne pleasure furnish them Ev'n with their owne new-fangled Teraphim And preach abroad for good Divinâ—ty The tumours of their windy fantasie Nay some of them far stranger things can doe For they can make their gods and eate them too There be of us as wilfull Favourites Of wicked men as were the Benjamiâ—es And rather then we will deliver â—hem To feele the stroke of Iustice who contemne The wayes of goodnesse we will hâ—zardize Our peace our fame and our posterities We have those Prophets who with Balam know Gods pleasure and what way they ought to goe And yet will for preferment doe their best That they his plaine revealed Will may wrest And though they are perhaps asham'd to say Their minds in publique closely they 'll betray The Lords inheritance and Scripture proofe Inferre for all things to their owne behoofe If of the pop'lar faction these become And thinke some gaine may be atchieved from That side Gods word they will produce for those That would disloyally their King oppose If by the Prince advantage may be had Then God himselfe an instrumâ—nt is made To warrantize their claimes anâ— Tyranny Shâ—ll prâ—ved be a lawfull Mâ—narchy As rash as Iephthâ— in our vowes are we As Ehuâ—s gift such oft our presents be In entâ—rtainments some like Iael are And in their complements may well compare Wâ—th bloody Ioaâ— for they make their table Become a snare and when most serviceable They doe appeare unheeded they unsheath Soâ—e fatâ—ll instruâ—ent tâ—at wounds to death Like old indulgent Eli some connive At all the sins in which theâ—r children live Nay glory in their lewdnesse and maintaine In them those follies which they should restraine Till their owne shame and their undoing followes And their wilde brood be tamed at the Gallowes Nor were the sonnes of Eli heretofore More wanton at the Tabernacle doore Then some young Priests of ours whom to correct The Fathers of our Church so much neglect That if they long connive as they have done The glory of our Isr'el will be gone Like those Philistians whose advice it was To fixe God's Arke and Dagon in one place We have too many and they cannot see Why God and Baal in one should not agree But when they raise their Iâ—ol in these Lands Lord let it fall and lose both head and hands We are as curâ—ous as the Bâ—thshâ—mites And long as much to see forbidden sights Like those of Ekron we professe to know The truest Goâ— and whence our troubles grow Yet are so stupid that we sleight his Grace And send him from us to another place Yea like the Gadarens we for our Swâ—ne Would banish Christ and sleight his love divine Wiâ—h Saul we doe neglect what should be done And sacrifice when God requireth none Fat Sheepe and Oxen were prefer before Oâ—edience to the Lord and follow more Our wills then his When God saith kill we spare And where he biâ—s be kinde we cruell are No love no kindnesse no sincerity No tokens of unfained piety Can stay our furies or divert our mind When we are once maliciously enclin'd Goliah like Gods army some contemne With Râ—bshâ—kâ—h some others doe blaspheme Some curse wâ—th Shimei Gods best beloved As causelesly to â—rieve them they are moved And are of gaine as greedy For if they Have but an usâ—â—sse Groome escap'd away Oâ— lost a beast for such a petty prise They will not stick their lâ—ves to hazaâ—dize VVe have those Michols which will scoffe flouâ— At such as are moâ—â— zealously devout We have those dog-like Doegs in our Courts That gladly heare and utteâ— all reports To disadvantaâ—e them whose wayes aâ—e pure And cannot their impieties endure VVe have those Nabals upon whom all cost All curtefies and kindnesses aâ—e lost We have like Vzzah those that dare to touch Gods holy Arke Nay we have worse then such Ev'n those that rob it and themselves adorne With Iewels from the Sanâ—tuary torne With David some have thought their sins to hide And their Adulteries in Murther dy'd Officiouâ— knaves like Ziba we have some VVho by their Masters falls to greâ—tnesse come And though they did men innoâ—ent betray VVithout reproving they doe passe away VVe have those wicked Aâ—mons who defile Their sisters And to lay a cunning wile For helping their companions to a
and understood Gods iustice and his mercy it unites Whom mens blind Cavills haue made opposites God knew the doome and date of Adams crime Yet he did fore-expresse no certaine time But speaking of it spake indefinitely And said That dâ—y thou sinnest thou shalt dye And sure of all mens deaths who e're gaine saies It is their sinne that setteth downe the daies For till transgression forfeited our breath There was no peremptory day of death And in affirming where Gods Word is mute It is presumption to be absolute Doe this saith God and liue Doe that and perish Yet some whose overfights too many cherish Dare contradict it and affirme that wee Good bad dead liuing damned saued be Eu'n from eternity without respects To any causes or to their effects And these imply that whatsoe're we doe Or leaue vndone God fore-appoints us to A certaine doome which we shall striue in vaine With all our strength to shunne or to obtaine And wherefore then did God his Gospell send Why doth his Word exhort vs to amend Why doth he â—id vs this or that to shunne Why hath he charged some things to be done If he no power hath giuen or else by fate Disableth all men to cooperate And leaues them neither good nor ill to doe But what he fore-decreed long agoe Why threats he stripes why promiseth reward If there be no compassion no regard Nor meed for what is done And what I pray Is all Religion if these truth doe say I know God reprobates and doth foresee Before all worlds who reprobates will be But none he forceth to be so accurst Saue those who haue his Grace rejected first And vnto those indeed he powre denies To worke his will because they did despise His profered Love And just it is in him To make them blinde who did the light contemne He doth eternally abhorre the crime But he the persons reprobates in time And None doth chuse or personally reject What ever some conceive but with respect Vnto his Covenant which hath implide Something to be perform'd on either side For were it so that God hath fore-decreed What should befall unto us without heed To any Covenant and bar'd Salvation By an eternall doome of Râ—probation In such like manner as the fantasies Of some not well advisedly devise What compasse we by striving therewithall Why spend we time in rising up to fall Why linger we to act so many crimes To suffer over griefe so many times And live so many sev'rall deaths to taste To be nor worse nor better at the last Or wherefore have we prayed since we know What must be must be though we pray not so I might be thought o're bitter if as they I should interrogate who sharply say Why doe not these who this opinion hold Goe hang themselves before that they are old Or in their Gardens TIMON like erect Faire Gibbets for the Schollers of their Sect What tends their life unto why should not they Refuse to eate and drinke and wisely say God for our end a certaine day hath set Which we shall reach although we taste no meat Why doe they shun a danger in the street Since they shall live their time what e're they meet If they to any place desire to goe Why trouble they their feet to helpe thereto Since they are sure that if decreed it were They should come thither they their paines may spare If thus I should have said some men would deeme me To be more bitter then did well beseeme me For I confesse that on the quick they grated Who in this manner have expostulated And I forbeare it Yet this generation Hath some who need this tart expostulation With whom loud noises more prevaile by far Then doe those proofes that Faiths and Reasons are I know to these Objections most replies I know their strength and where their weaknesse lies I know what holy Scriptures men mistake Which proofes of their assertions seeme to make I know how they their Arguments mis-lay From that of Esau and the Potters clay I know what Times and Termes they misconceive And wherewithall themselves they doe deceive I know with what nick-names of heresie Some Readers will for this my Muse belye And that nor they who call'd Arminiâ—ns be Nor they who reprehend them will with me Be friends for this for neither those nor these Am I desirous to offend or please But to uphold the Truth which is bely'd Injuriously by most of either side I know their spight their vineger their gall I know what spirit most are led withall Who spread the Doctrines which I have reproved And know such Reason nevâ—r to be moved With favour to them that I dare to say It is the nearest and the straightest way To all prophanenesse It the bâ—idle gives To â—arnall liberties and makes the lives And hearts of many men so voyd of care From hence distractions hence despairings are Hence mischiefes hence selfe murthers doe arise Hence is it that such multitudes despise Good discipline yea this contemned makes The life of Faiâ—h if once it rooting takes Disableth pious practices outright And where it roots destroyes Religion quite Let no man then admit into his thought That God Almighty hath decreed ought Which on his Iustice may infringement bring Or on his Mercy in the smallest thing Or that his Wisedome any thing ordaines Without the meanes which thereunto pertaines Or thinke because our sinne he doth permit That therefore he necessitateth it Or that he wills those errours he foresees As he the workes of righteousnesse decrees Or that our humane actions cypheâ—s are Or that within this world there ever were Or shall those persons be whom God will call Vnto account untill he giue them shall At least one Talent which may serue vnto The working of that worke he bids them doe Let no man dreame these dreames nor censure this Till he hath well consider'd what that is Which I deliuer For in this darke way Our learnedst Clerkes doe sometimes runne astray Nor let them thinke that I concurre with all Who in appearance hold this Tenet shall Or that I differ from all men that may In termes dissent from what I seeme to say For they that in expression disagree In one well-meaning oft united be And either if that they in loue contend Shall then at length obtaine their wished end Oh! labour this all you that would be thought GODS gloâ—y in your studies to haue sought That though offences come they may not moue Disunion but Gods worthy ones approve And let us with a true sobriety So heed his Actions of eternitie That we may see in them a boundlesnesse Beyond our humane wisdome to expresse Leave quarrelling about his waies unknowne And take more heed here after to our owne For though God pleaseth other while to use Our vulgar Termes some notions to infuse Of his eternall workings and apply His deeds that way to our capacity Disclosing them unto us one by one
Or which were woâ—se anotâ—er Fiery-triall To â—orce us of thy Truth to makâ— denyall And in these fearfull times no temporall blisse Would seeme a greater priviledge then this To those who now with trembling soules expect What our proceedings will at last â—ffect Yea they perhaps who now are stupifi'd Will praise my lot wheÌ„ they their chance have try'd But though ev'n all men living should despise The comfort of it I the same will prise I praise thee for it LORD and here emplore That I may praise thee for it evermore Thâ—t these expressions of thy love to me May helpfull also to thy praises be In other men And if it may be so In other times and other places too And that the shewing how I did compose The waâ—re which twixt my Faith and Reâ—son rosâ— Mâ—y teach some others how they should debate Such doubts within themselves and arbitrate Within their Coâ—rt of Conscience what is fit To be concluded and so practise it For why so largely I have this exprest That was not of my pâ—rposes the least I beg moreover that I may pursue To utter that which I have yet to shew And that nor Sloth nor Want nor any Let Mâ—y to these Poâ—â—es their last period set Till I have made my Readers to conceive That this was undertaken by thy leave And that my Censurers may come to say There was an usefull purpose in my stay Or shew me what they did or what I might Have done to better uses in my flight 〈◊〉 I lastly crave which is I trust begun That I â—he way of thy Commands may run The remnant of my Talent and my dayes Employing in good actions to thy praise That I for ever may those paths refuse Which may unhallow or pervert my Muse And that when this is done I may not fall Through Pride or Sloth as if this act were all But humbly strive such other woâ—kes to doe As thou râ—quir'st and I was borne unto Yea fuâ—nish me with ev'ry thing by which I best may seâ—ve thee and I shall be rich This beg I LORD and nothing else I crave For more then that were lesse then nought to have I beg of thee nor Fame nor mortall praise Nor carnall pleasures nor yet length of dayes Nor honors nor vaine wealth but just what may The Charges of my Pilgrimage defray Oh grant me â—his and heare me when I call For if thou stand not by me I shall fall The fourth Canto Our Muse in this fourth Canto writes Of melancholy thoughts and sights Whaâ— changes were in â—very place What Ruines in a little space How Trades and how provisions fail'd How â—orrow thriv'd how Death prevail'd And how in 〈◊〉 he did riâ—e With all his horrors by his side To LONDON then she doth declarâ— How suting her afflictions were To former sinnes what good and bad Effects this Plague produced had Wâ—at friendly Champions and what Foes For us did fight or us oppose And how the greatest Plague of all On poore Artificers did fall Then from the Fields new griefe she takes And usefull Meditations makes Relates how flowly Vengeance came How God forewarn'd us of the same What other Plagues to this were joyned And here and there are interlined Vpbraidings warnings exhortations And pertinent expostulations WHen Conscience had allowed my Commission For staying declar'd on what condition I did not onely feele my heart consent To entertaine it with a full content But also found my selfe prepared so To execute the worke I had to do That without paine me thought I was employ'd And all my Passions to good use enjoy'd For though God freâ—d my soule from slavish feare Yeâ— so much awe he still preserved there As kept within my heaâ—t some naturall sense Oft is displeasure and of penitence He gave me Ioyes yet left some Griefe withall Lest I into security might fall Or lose the fellow-feeling of that paine Whereoâ— I heard my neighbours to complaine He lent me health yet ev'ry day some twitches Of pangs unusuall many qualmeâ— and stitches Of short continuance my poore heart assailed That I might heed the more what others ayled He kept me hopefull and yet now and then His rods wherewith in love he scourgeth men Did make me smart lest else I might assume The liberty of Wantons and presume My ordinary meanes was made their prey Who seeke my spoile and lately tooke away Yet me with plenties daily did he feed And I did nothing wanâ— which I could need Which God vouchsafed to assure to me That when unusuall workes required be He will e're we shall want what 's necessary Supply us by a meanes not ordinary By many other signes unmention'd here Gods love and providence did so appeare And so me thought ingage me to remove What ever to his work a let might prove That so farre forth as my fraile natuâ—e could Admit and things convenient suffer would My owne Affaires aside a while I threw And bent my selfe with heedfulnesse to view What worth my notice in thiâ— Plague I saw Oâ— what good uses I from thence might draw But â—arre I needed not to pace about Nor long enquire to finde such Objects out For ev'ry place with sorrowes then abounded And ev'ry way the cryes of Mourning sounded Yea day by day successively till night And from the evening till the morning light Were Scâ—eâ—es of Griefe with strange variety Knit up in one continuing Tragedy No sooner wak'd I but twice twenty knels And many sadly-sounding passing-bels Did greet mine eare and by their heavy towles To me gave notice that some early soules Departed whilst I slept That other some Were drawing onward to their longest home And seemingly presag'd that many a one Should bid the world good-night e're it were noonâ— One while the mournfull Tenor in her tones Did yeeld a sound as if in deepe foâ— grones She did bewaile the sorrow which attends The separation of those loving friends The Soule and Body Other while agen Me thought it call'd on me and other men To pray that God would view thâ—m with compassioÌ„ And give them comfortable separation For we should with a fellow-feeling share In ev'ry sorrow which our brethren beare Sometime my Fancy tuned so the Bell As if her Towlings did the story tell Of my mortality and call me from This life by oft and loudly sounding Come So long the solitary nights did last That I had leasure my accounts to cast And think upon and over-think those things Which darknesse lonelinesse and sorrow brings To their consideration who doe know From whence they came and whither they must go My Chamber entertain'd me all alone And in the roomes adjoyning lodged none Yet through the darksome silent night did flye Sometime an uncouth noise sometime a cry And sometime mournfull callings pierc'd my roome Which came I neither knew from whence nor whom And oft betwixt awaking and asleepe Their voices who did talke or pray or weepe Vnto my listning eares a
faire then they that fam'd in Legends are Those sâ—ood unpeopled as those â—ouseâ— doe Which Sprights and Fairies doe resoâ—t unto None to their closed wickeâ—s made repaiâ—e Their empty gasemenâ—s gaped wide for ayre And where once foot clotâ—es and Caâ—oches were Attending now stood Coffiâ—s and a Biere Yea Coffins oftner past by ev'ry doore Thâ—n Coaches and Caroches heretofoâ—e To see a country Lady or a Knight Among us then had beene aâ— rare a sighâ— As was that Elephant which came from Spaine Oâ— some great Monster spewd out of the Maine If by mischance the people in the street A Courtier or a Gentleman did meet They with as much amazement him did view As if they had beheld the wandâ—ing â—ew And many seeing me to keepe this place Did looke as if they much bewaild my casâ— And hâ—lâ—e belee'vd that I was doomed hither That since close-prison halfe a yeare together Nor private wrongs nor publique dis-respect Could breake my heart nor much the same deject This Plague might kill me which is come to whip Those faults which herâ—tofore my pen did strip But here I walkt in safety to behold What changes for instructioâ— see I could And as I wandred on my eye did meet Those halfe built Pageants whiâ—h a thwaâ—t the street Did those triumphant Arches counterfeit Which heretofore in ancient Rome were fet When their victorious Generalls had thither The spoile of mighty kingdomes bâ—ought together The loyall Citizens â—lthough they lost The glory of their well-intended cost Eâ—ected those great Structures to renowne The new receiving oâ— the Sov'raigne Crowne By hopefull CHARLES whose royall exaltation Make thou oh God propitious to this Nation But when those works imperfect I beheld They diâ— new câ—uses of sad musings yeeld Portending ruine And did seeme me thought In honor of Deaths trophees to be wrougâ—t Much rather then from purposes to â—pring Which aymed at the honor of a King For their unpolisht forme did make them fit For dâ—â—efull Showes yea DEATH on them did sit His Captives passed under evâ—â—y Arch Among them as in Triumph he did march Through ev'ry Street upon mens backs were borne His Conquests His bâ—ack Liveâ—ies were woâ—ne In ev'ry House almost Hiâ— spoyles were brought To ev'ry Temple Many Vaults were frauâ—ht With his new prizes And his followers grew To such a multitude that halfe our Eugh And all our Cypresse tâ—ees could haâ—dly lend him A branch for ev'ry one who did attend him My Fancy did present to me that houre A glimpse of DEATH ev'n in his greatest power Me thought I saw him in a Charret ride With all his grim companions by his side Such as Oblivion and Corruption be Not halfe a step before him â—ode these tâ—ree On Monsters backt Paine Horror and Despaire Whose fury had not Faith and Hope and Pray'r Prevented through Gods mâ—rcy none had ever Escap'd Destruction by their best endevour For next to Death came Iudgement after whom Hell wâ—th devouâ—ing lawes did gaping come To swallow all But she at One diâ— snap Who now for many hath made way to scape Death's Carr with many chaines ropes strings And by a muâ—titude of severall thâ—ngs As Pleasures Passions Cares and such as they VVas drawne along upon a beaten way New gravell'd with old bones and Sin did seeme To be the formost Beast of all the Teeme And Sicknesse to be that whiâ—h haled next The Charret wheele for none I sâ—w betwixt Time led the way and Iustice did appeaâ—e To sit before and play the Charioteâ—r For since our Sin to pâ—ll on Death begun The whip of Iustice makes the Charret run There was of Trumpets and of Drums the sound But in loud cries and roarings it was drown'd Sad Elâ—gies and songs of Lamentation Were howled out but moved no compassion Skulls Coffiâ—s Spades and Mattocks placed were About the Charret Crawling Wormes were there And whatsoever else might signifie Deaths nature and weak mans mortalitie Before the Chaâ—ret such a multitude Of ev'â—y Nation in the world I view'd That neither could my eye so farre perceive As they were thâ—onging nor my heart conceive Their countlesse number For all those that were Since Abel dy'd he drove before him there And of those thousands dying long agoe Some here and there among them I did know Whose Vertues them in death distinguished In spight of Death from others of the dead I saw them stand me thought as you shall see High spreading Oakes which in â—el'd Copses be O're-top the shrubs and where scarce two are found Of growth within ten thousand roâ— of ground Oâ— those who dy'd within the Age before This yeare I scâ—rce distinguished a score From Beasts and Fowles Fishes For Death makes So little difference twixt the flesh he takes That into dust alike he â—urnes it all And if no vertue make distinction shâ—ll Those men who did of much in lifetime boast Shall dying in the common heap be lost But of thoâ—e Captives which my fantasie Presented to my apprehensions eye To grace this Monâ—râ—es Triumpâ— most I heeded Those tâ—oups which next before the Carr proceeded Ev'n those which in the circuit of this yeare The prey of Death within our Iland were It was an Army royall which becâ—me A King and loe King IAMES did lead the same The Duke of Richmond and his onely brother The Duke of Lenox seconded each other Next â—hem in this attendance follow'd on That noble Scoâ— the Marquis Hammilton Souâ—hampton Suâ—folke Oxford Nottingham And Holdernesse their Earledomes leaving came To wait upon this Triumph There I saw Some rev'rend Bishops and some men of Law As Winchester and Hubbard and I know not Who else for to their memories I owe not So much as here to name them nor doe I Vpon me take to mention punctually Their order of departing nor to sweare That all of these fell just within the yeare For of the time if somewhat I doe misse The matter sure not much materiall is Some Barons and some Viscounts saw I too Zouch Bacon Chichester and others moe Whose Titles I forgâ—t There folâ—ow'd then Some Officers of note some Aldermen Great store of Knights and Buâ—gesses with whom A couple marcht that had the Shcriffâ—dome Of London that sad yeare the one of which In Piety and Vertue dy'd so rich If his surviving fame may â—e beleeved That for his losse the City much hath grieved To be an honor to him here therefore I fixe the name of Crisp which name he bore And I am hopefull it shall none offend The Muses doe this right unto their friend Some others also of great state and place To me noâ— knowne by office name nor face Made up the concouâ—se But the common Rabble To number or distinguâ—sh none was able For rich and poore men women old and yong So fast and so confusedly did throng By strokes of Death so markt so gastly wounded So thrust together and so much confounded Among that glut of people which
then a thing worth note when ev'ry Field And meanest Villages did plenties yeeld Indeed not long before we surfeted And plaid the wantons with our heav'nly bread Our appetite was cloy'd and we grew dainty And either loath'd or murmur'd at our plenty Yea many of us when at will we had it By private Cookeries unwholsome made it For which and for our base unthankfulnesse Our portion and allowance waxed lesse And we who like fond children would not eat Vnlesse this man or that man carv'd our meat Then like poore folks that of meere almes do live Were glad to take of any that would give The Laborers were few the Harvest large And of the best of those that had the châ—rge To spâ—ead Godâ— â—able soâ—e gâ—ew faint and tired By thâ—iâ— perpetuâ—ll travâ—ile some expired Their pâ—infull soul â—s and freely sacrifiz'd Themsâ—lves for us tâ—at we might be suffiz'd Among which â—apâ—y number I doe â—lesse The memory of learned Makâ—râ—â—sse And zealous Eton whoâ—e lâ—rge â—â—ngâ—â—gâ—tions Bemoan'd their losse with hâ—aâ—ty lâ—meâ—â—ations And worthily for â—hey diâ— labour here Wiâ—h cheerfulnâ—sse and in their Câ—lliâ—gs were So truly diligent wâ—iâ—st vigour lasted That they then liâ—e blood yea â—heiâ— spiâ—its wasted And ev'n unslackt the very neâ—ves and powres Of their owne soules to helpe enable ouâ—s To bury nigh a hundred in a day To church to â—arry study preach and pray To make bâ— times at niâ—hâ— late watch to keepe To be distuâ—b'd at midnight from their sleepe To visit him that on his death-bed lyes Oft to communicate more oft baptize And daily and all day to be in action As were those two to give due satisfaction To their great Flocks moâ—e Laborers there needed And their consumed strengths it much exceeded But they are now at reâ—â— their wâ—ke is done Their Fight is finished thâ—iâ— Gâ—ale is won And though no Trophâ—e I to them can raise Save this poore witheâ—'d Wreath of mortall praise Their Master to reward their faithfulnesse For them reseâ—ved Crownes of Happinesse Because unto his houshold they the Bread Of life in season have distributeâ— Nor was the â—ood of life diminisht more By such mens want alone then heretofore But to our discontent we also had Our dâ—e allowances the shoâ—ter made Ev'n by command Foâ— some I know not why Had â—alsely mis inâ—orm'd Authoâ—ity That oâ—r promiscuâ—us meetings at the Fast Increast the Plague which waâ— beleev'd in hast And being urg'd peâ—haps with such fane sheweâ— Of Reason as â—onjâ—cture couâ—d inâ—uâ—e The mattâ—r â—eiâ—g aggravâ—ted too With sucâ—â—ntruthâ— as tâ—aveâ—l to and fro The publike pâ—eaching on the Fasting day Was in an evill season tooke awâ—y For when the flesh was fed and soule deprived Of two Repasts whiâ—h weekly we received Prophanenesse and hard-heaâ—tednesse began To get new rooting in the mind of man We missâ—â— those good helpes and those examples Which had beene preaâ—hed to us in our Temples The poore did want full quiâ—kly to their griefe Those Almes the Fast bâ—ought out for their reliefe And when with Prayers Preaching did not goe Our cold Devotions did far colder grow VVhat instrument of mischiefe might he be VVho caused that And what a â—oole was he If Wensday-Sermons holpe infect I pray VVhat kept us safer on the Sabbath day Since most fast then till noone without refection Or what at Funeralls did stop infection Good God! in thy affaiâ—es how vaine to me Doth carnall Policy appeare to be How apt is flesh and blood to run a course Which makes the soules condition worse and woâ—se To ventâ—re on eternall death how toward And in a temporall danger what a cowaâ—d Suâ—e had not such a â—roject had a scope Beyond the reaching of the Dâ—vils hope And beâ—n too damnable for any onâ— To be his Procurator thereupon Some wâ—â—lâ— have made the motion that we might Have liv'd â—xcluâ—ed from our Churches quite And that â—ill â—od his hand should please â—o stay None â—hould in publâ—ke either preach or pray ' Twaâ— well the weekly number of the dead By Gods meere mâ—rcy was diminished Before tâ—e prohibition of the Fast The Fiâ—nd had elsâ— for evermore diâ—gâ—ac't That Discipline and carnall Polâ—cy Hâ—d so insulted o're Divinity That in succeeding Ages men unholy Would thence have proved such Devotion Folly But God prevented it that we should take Goâ—d nâ—tice of it and good uses make And I have mention'd it that here I may God's Wisâ—dome and Man's foolishnesse display Oh let us to our Fasts againe returne Let us for our omissions truly mourne And not capitulate with God as tho He first his Rod out of his hand should throw Heâ—e we would come unto him for if thus A son of ouâ—s should beare himselfe to us It would ourâ—ire exasperate the more And make the fault seem greater then before Why should we in an action that is just The mercy of our gracious God distrust Or unto any place be loath to go Where God is to be heard or spoken to Through feare of that which may be caught at home And in a thousand places where we come Our sinnes and plagues were publike so should wee In Pray'rs and Teares and Almes and Fastings be â—or that sâ—rong Dâ—vill which hath tortur'd thus Our generall body is not cast from us By single Exâ—rcismos neither â—hall Our pâ—ivâ—cies advantage us at all Except in what conduces to the health Of private men or of their private wealâ—h If we in close retirements by our feare At maâ—kets or where worse Assemblies are Infected grow the Devill by and by With us perswadeth either to belye The Church our constant Fasting or some one Good woâ—ke or pious action we have done As visiting the sick in tiâ—e of need Or any other such like Christian deed For he those practices doth greatly spight And to disparage them hath much delight Because he sees that such as are inclinde To pious meanes will soone by triall finde Good hopes to thrive beyond their expectations Their knowledge foole his cunning machinations Their faiths grow strong temptations weak appeare Their joy most perfect where most sorrowes are And know that when the Lord of Hoasts is armed With all his Iudgements that he least is harmed Who bold through Love selfe-trust quite fâ—om him throws And runs with coÌ„fidence to meet his blows Let no man then be fearfull to repairâ— Vnto the house of Preaching or of Pray'r Or any whither else those works to doe Which he by Conscience is obliged to No though the Devill in the passage lay Or strow'd most â—earfull dangers in the way For if in such a case our death we tâ—ke Our death shall for our best advantage â—ake Yet let none thinke I this opinion cary That ev'ry Church will be a Sanctâ—aâ—y To all â—hat come For sure if any dare Without Devotion in Gods house appeare To them that plâ—ce more peâ—ill threatenâ— then A chamber thronged with infected men Some fainted in the Church as others did Within their
Of endlesse Wandrings that it leads us to That sin sometimes whâ—ch we abhor to doe And otherwhile so strangely giddifies The Reason and the soules best Faculties That as I said before we doe not know What in our selves to bâ—ke or disallow Yea we such turnings and crosse wayes doe finde That ofâ— our Guides as well as we â—e blinde The Spiâ—it and the Flesh have their delight In things so diverse and so opposite And such a Law of sinne doth still abide Withâ—n our Members that we swarve aside Doe what we can and while we helpe the one To what seemes needfull th' otâ—â—â— is undone If by the Spirits motion I procâ—ed To compasse what I thinke my Soule may need My Body wants the while and I am faine To leave my course that her I may sustaine Lâ—ft my engagements or necessities Might my well meant endeavor scandalize If I but feed my Body that it may Assist my Spirit in some lawfull way It straight growes wanton If I fast it makes My spirit faint in what she undertakes And if I keepe a meane meane fruits are they And little worth which then produce I may If in a Christiâ—n love some houres I spend To be a comfort to some female friend Who needs my counfell I doe cause â—he while Another with hot jealousies to boyle Nor know I how my selfe excuse I may Vnlesse anothers weaknesse I display Which if I doe not or some lye invent They censure me unkinde or impudent I can nor doe nor speake nor thinke that thing But still some inconvenience it will â—ring Or some occasion of anevill be To me or others or to them and me And from the body of this Death by whom But by my Saviour can I freed become Oh! therefore sweet Redeemer succour lend me And from these bogs and sâ—ares of sin defend me Deare God assist in these perplexities Which from our fraile condition doe arise Sâ—t straight I pray thee Lord â—he crookednesse Oferring Nature and these faults redresse So out of frame is evâ—ry thing in me That I can hope for cure from none but thee To thee I therâ—fore kneele to thee I pray To thee my soule complaineth ev'ry day Doe thou but say Be whole or be thou cleane And I shall soone be pure and sound agen The Will thou gavâ—st me to affect thy Will Though it continue not so perfect still Aâ— when thou first bestow'dst the same accept it Ev'n such as my polluted Vessell kept it For though it wounded be through many fights Continu'd with my carnall appetites Yet iâ— my hâ—arts desire to me be knowne Thy Pleasure I preferre before minâ— owâ—e If I could chuse I would not guilâ—y be Of any â—ct diâ—plâ—asing unto thee In all my life I would not spâ—â—ke a word But thâ—t which to thy likâ—ng might accord I woulâ— not thinke a thought but wâ—at might fhow That fâ—om thy Spirit all â—y â—usings flow I would nor hate nor love nor hope nor feare But as unto thy praise it usefull were I would not have a joy within my heart Of which thou shouldâ—t not be the greater part Nor would I live or dye or happy be In life or death but Lord to honour thee Oh! let this Will which is the precious seed Of thine oâ—â—e Love be taken for the deed Assist thou mâ— against the potent evill Of my great Foes the World the Flesh the Devill Renew my fainting pow'rs my heart revive Refresh my spirits and my soule relieve Lord draw me by the cords of thy affection And I shall fall in love with thy perfection Vnloose my chaines and I shall then be free Convert me and converted I shall be Yea to my soule oh God! and to my senses Display thy beautie and thy excâ—â—lencies So plaine that I may have them still in sight And thou shalt ever be my sole delight The world though she should into pieces teare me With troubles from thy love should never scare me Nor â—ble be to tempt me from one duty To â—he with all her pleasure and her beauty Behold I came to seeke thee Lord ev'n here Where to attend thy presence most men feare Though here I saw the Pestilence withstand me I stand to know what worke thou wouldst command me From all the pleasures of the world and from Hâ—r hopes of safety I am bâ—â—her come Where thou art angry and to see thy frowne Am at thy feet with terror fallen downe Yet hence I would not flye although I might To gaine the chiefest of this worlds delight Till I perceive thou biddâ—st me goe away And then for twenty woâ—lds I would not stay I came as heartily as flâ—sh and blood Could come that hath in it so little good To doe thee service and if dye I must Loe here I am and I pronounce thee just Although thou slâ—y me yet my soule well knowes Thou lovâ—st me And I le trust in thee repose Though in my selfe I feele I am polluted I finde a better righteousnesse imputed Then I have lost Thy blessed Love doth fill me With joyes that will revâ—ve me though thou kill me My sins are great â—ut thy compassion's greater I haâ—e thy Quittance though I am thy Debtor And though my temp'rall hopes may be destroid Yet I have those that never shall be void Thus to the Lord my soule I powred out When I with dâ—ngers waâ— enclos'd about And though I was a sinner this appeased His wrath in Châ—ist aâ—d my gâ—iev'd soule was eased He graciously accepted in good part This poore oblation of an humbled heart His Mercy seâ—l'd my pardon and I shook The Pestilence which hold upon me tooke From off my shoulder without sense of harme As Paul did shake the Viper from his arme That weeke moreover God begâ—n to slack His Bow and call his bloody Angell backe VVho by degrees retyr'd as he came on For weeke by weeke untill it fâ—ll to none The number which the Pestilence did kill VVas constantly and much abated still VVhen we were fleating on that Inundation At first we sent a carnall Lamentation VVhich like the Raven â—rom Noahs Arke did flye And found nor rest nor hope of remedy Then sent we Dâ—ve-like Mournings but thâ—â—â— feet A while could with no resting places meeâ— Then forth againe we sent them out from â—ence VVing'd with moâ—e Charity and Penitence And then they brought an Olive-bâ—anch of peace VVhich made us hopefull of this Floods decrease The Lord did favour to this Kingdome daigne And brought from thrall his Iacob back againe His peoples crimes he freely did release His irâ— abated his hot rage did cease His praise had in our Land a dwelling place And Mercy there with Iustice did embrace And 't was a grace to be considered That a Disease so generally spred And so contagious in few weeks should from So many thousands to a cypher come That our infectious beds and roomes and stuffe VVhich in all likelyhood had beene enough To keepe the
more carefull of thy weale by far Then parents of their childrens pâ—ofits are Thy Magistraâ—eâ— with wisdome shall proceed In all that shall be couâ—ell'd or decreed As Harbours wâ—en it blowes tempestuously As Rivers unto places over-dâ—y As Shadowes aâ—e to men opprest with heat As to a hungry stomacâ— wholsomâ— meat To thee so welcomâ— and as much conâ—enting Thy Nobles will become on thy repenting Thy Priests shal preach true doctrine in thy Teples And make it fruitfull by their good examples Thy God with righteousnesse shall them aray And heare and answer them when they do pray Thy eyes that much are blinded shall be cleare Thy eaâ—es that yet are deafned then shall heare Thy tongue that sâ—aÌ„mers now shall then spâ—ak plain Thy heart shall perfect understanding gaine The preaching of the Gospell shall encrease Thy God shall make thy comforts and thy peace To flow as doth a River they who plant The blessing of their labour shall not want Thy poorest people shall at full be fed The meek shall of no tyâ—aâ—t stand in dread Thou shalt have grace and knowledge to avoid Those things whereby thy râ—st may be annoid Tâ—ou shalt possâ—sse thy wished blâ—ssings all And God shall heare thee still before thou call But as a Chime whâ—se â—rets disord red grow Can never cause it selfe in tâ—ne to goe Nor chime at all untill some cunning hand Doth make the same againe in order stand Or as the Clock whose plummers are not weight Strikeâ— sometimes one for three and sixe for eight So fareth it with men and kingdomes all When once from their integrity they fall They may their motionâ—urry â—urry out of frame But have no pow'r to râ—ctifie the same That curious hand which first those pieces wrought Must mend them still or they will still be nought To thee I therefore now my speech convert Thou famous Artist who Creator art Of heav'n and eaâ—th and of those goodly spheares That now have whirled many thousand yeares And shall untill thy pleasure â—ives it ending In their perpetuall motion without mending Oh! be thou pleased by thy pow'rfull hand To set in order this depraved Land Our whole foundation Lord is out of course And ev'ry thing still groweth worse and worâ—e The way that leads quite from thee we have tooke Thy Covenant and all thy Lawes are bâ—oke In mischiefes and in folly is our pleasure Our crying sins have almost fill'd their measure Yet ev'ry day we adde a new transgressiâ—n And still abuse thy favour and compassion Our Governors our Prelats and our Nobles Have by their sins encrease encreast our trouâ—les Our Priests and all the People have misgone All kind of evill deeds we all have done We have not lived as those meanes of â—race Require which thou hast graâ—ted to this place But â—ather woâ—se then many who have had Lessâ— helpes then we of being better made No Nation under heav'n so lewd hath bin That had so mâ—ny wâ—rnings for their sin And such perpetuall callings on as we To leave our wickednesse and turne to thee Yet we in stead of turning further went And when thy Mercies and thy Plagues were sent To pull us backe they seldome wrought our stay Or moved to repentance one whole day No blessing no affliction hath a pow'r To move compunction iâ— us for one houre Vnlesse thou worke it All that I can speake And all that I have spoken till thou breake And mollifie the heart will fruitlesse be Not onely in my hearers but in me Iâ— thou pâ—epare not way for more esteeme All these Remembrances will foolish seeme Nay these in stead of moving to repent Will indignation move and discontent Which will mens haâ—dned hearts obdurate more And make their fault much greater then before Vnlesse thou give a â—lessing I may strive As well to make a marble stone alive As to effect my pâ—rpoâ—e yea all this Like wholesome counsell to a mad man is And I for my good meaning shall be torne In pieces or exposed be to scorne â—or they against thy word doe stop their eare And wilde in disobedience will not heare In this we all confesse ourselves to blame And that we therefore have deserved shame Yea Lord we doe acknowledge that for this There nothâ—ng else to us pertaining is Respecting our owne worth but desolation And finall â—ooting ouâ— without compassion But gracious God though such our merit be Yet â—ercy fâ—ll pertaineth unto thee To thee the act of pard'ning and forgiving As much belongs oh Father everliving As plagues to us and it were better far Our sinnes had lesse then their deservings are Then that thy Clemency should be outgone By alâ— the wickednesse that can be done As well as theirs whose lives now left them have Thou caâ—st command those bodies from the grâ—ve Who slink and putrifie and buried be In their corruption Such oh Lord are we Oh! call us from this grave and shew thy pow'r Vpon this much polluted Land of our Which is not only sick of works unholy But almost dead and buried in her folly Forgive us all our slips our neglâ—gences Our sins of knowledge and our ignorances Our daring wickednesse our blâ—ody crimes And all the faults of past and pâ—esent times Permit not thy just wrath to burne for â—ver In thy displeasure doe not still persever But call us from that pit of Death and Sin And from that path of Hell which we are in Remember that this Vineyard hath a Vine Which had her planting by that hand of thine Remember when from Egypt thou remov'dst it With what entire affection then thou lov'dst it How thou didst weed and dresse it heretofore How thou didst fence it from the forrest Bore And think how sweet a vintage then it brought When thy first worke upon her thou hadst wrought Remember that without thy daily care The choicest plants soone wilde and fruitlesse are And that as long as thou dost prune and dresse The sowrest Vine shâ—ll bring a sweet â—ncrease Râ—member also Lord how still that Foe Wâ—â— fiâ—st puâ—sued us doth seek to sow His â—ares among thy wheat and to his pow'r Bâ—eak downâ— thy fence and trample and devoure The seeds of grace as soone as they doe sprout And is toâ— strong for us to keep him out Oâ— let not him prevaile such harme to do us As he desires but Lord reâ—urne unto us Returne in merâ—y Though thou find us slack To come our selves fâ—tch draw and pull us back From our owne courses by thy grace divine And set and keep us in each way of thine We from our foes have saved beene by thee And in thy love oh Lord triumphed we But now behold disgrac'd thou throw'st us by And we before our adversaries flye Aâ— us our neighbâ—ring Nations laugh and jeere And us they â—coâ—ne whom late we made to feare Oh God aâ—ise reject us not for aye No longer hide from us thy face away But come oh come with speed to give uâ—aid
dost love Doth leave deceive thee or thy torment prove Mans very Body burthens him and brings Vnto itselfe a thousand torturings Thy Heart with many Thinkings is perplext Yea by thine owne Affections thou art vext And though by overcomming them at last Thy soule hath comfort when the fight is past Thou hast perpetuall conflicts which requirâ— Continuall watchfulnesse for no Desire Or nat'rall Passion ever did molest The heart of Man that strives not in thy brest In ev'ry Pleasure somewhat lurks to scar thee In ev'ry Profit somewhat to ensnare thee Whole armies of Afflictions swarme about thee Some fight within thee some assaile without thee And that which thou conceivest shall releeve thee Becommeth oft another meanes to griâ—ve thee Yea thine owne thoughts thy speâ—ches and thine actions Occasion discontentments and distraction And all the portion which thou dost inherit Yeelds nought but perturbations of the spirit In Childhood all thy pleasures were but toyes In heat of Youth as fruitlesse were thy joyes Thy riper yeares do nought but ripen care And imperfections thy perfections are If Old thou grow thy griefes will aged be And Sicknesse till thou dye wil live in thee Thy Life 's a Warfare which must quite be done E're dangers vanish or the Field be won It is a Voyage full of wearinesse Till thou thy wished harbor dost possesse And thou of no externall Ioy canst bâ—ast That may not e're thy dying day be lost But truth to say what thing dost thou possesse Which others thiâ—ke to be a happinesse The world allowes thee little that is hers And â—hee to very small esteeme prefers Among her Minions but in ev'ry place Endeavors to affront thee with disgrace Dâ—prives thee of thy labours and bestowes On Parasites on Fooâ—es and on thy Foes Thy due and with a spightfull enviousnesse Thy best approved Studies doth suppresse Behold â—â—rothy Masqâ—e an idle Song The witlesse jesting of a scurrilous tongue Thâ— capring Dancer and the foining Fencer The bold Buffoone the slye Intelligencer Those foolâ—sh raving fellowes whose delights Are wholly fixed on their Curs and Kites The Termly Pamphletâ—rs whose Dedications Doe sooth and claw the times abominations Ev'n such â—ike things as these can purchase grace And quickly compasse Pension â—ift or Place When thy more honest Labours are abused Contemned sleighted or at best refused If such a one as these forenam'd resort To set abroach his qualities in Court He findes respect and as an usefull man His Faculty some place afford him can He soone hath entertainment Or if not Yet something may sor his availe be got A base Invention that scarce merit may The reputation of a Puppet-play Soâ—e spangled Courtier or some foolish Lord Admires affects and of his owâ—e accord Prefers it to the Prince or to the King As an ingenious or much usefull thing And ten to one if then the Author can But humor well his Lordship or his man That rules his Honors wisdome it may gaine him Some such like Lord as that to enâ—ertaine him For his câ—mpanion yâ—a the privy purse May open to him and be fareth worse Then many a Foole hath done unlâ—sse e're long He purchaseth to be enroâ—l'd among The best Deservers and arise to be Superior to a better man then be Twixt these and thee what distances appeare And twixt your Fortunes what a space is there When thou hadst fâ—nished a Worke divine As much for others profit as for thine Thou scarcely found'st a man to make thee way Thy Present at thy Soveraigneâ— feeâ— to lay And when thou didst No sooner laid he by What tendred was but some inâ—urious eye Did quickly take thereof a partiall view And with detracting Censures thee pursue Yea those meere Ignorants whose courtly wiâ— Can judge of nothing but how cloathes doe fit How Congees should be acted how their Boy Obsâ—rve them should or some such weighty â—oy Those Shreds of Complement patcht up for things To fill vast Roomes in Palaces of Kings As Antiques doe in Hanginâ—â— more for show Then any profit which from them câ—n flow â—v'n those scarce worth our laughing at have paâ—â— Their doomes on that which thou presented hast As if they understood it and as those â—y chance did censure so the Censure goes If these or any such like Mountebanks By slavish fawning or by pickinâ— thanks By hoâ—eliest services or worse by cheating Extorting from the poore or by defeating Men honeâ—â—ly disposed or by any Of those ill meanes whereof this age hath many Can out of heggery their fortunes reare To hundreds or to thousands by the yeare They thinke themselves abus'd if any grutch Oâ— mâ—rmur as if they had got too much But though thou from thy childhood wert employ'd In painfâ—ll studies and hadst not enjoy'd So much externall profit as would pay The charges of thy Troubles for a day Nay rather hindrance hadst and punishment For that which gave most honest men content Yet marke their dealing when but hope there was Of gaine to thee which never came to passe And though that gaine were lesse then Traders can Allow sometimes unto a Iourney-man Yea though it were to no mans prejudice â—ut many profiting and did arise By thine owne labours that small yearly summâ— Expected for nought yet but losse doth come Was grumbled at as if it had beene more Then any ever gained heretofore And would the Common-weale have prejudised Had none thereof to frustrate thee deâ—ised Some therefore whose maliciousnesse is yet Vnanswer'd for themselves against thee set And by the dammage of their owne estate Have labour'd thee and thine to ruinate Some others as injuriously as they Laid causelesse Nets to snarle thee in thy way And have procured for thy best intents Reproofes Contempts and Close Imprisonments As rigoâ—ous as ever were inflicted Of those thâ—t for High Treason stood convicted Yea that which might an honest wealth have won thee â—as that whereby they sought to have undone thee Foule Scandals thy best actions have attended And as if on thine Infamy depended The Kingdomes glory Pamphlets false and base Yea publike Maâ—ques and Playes to thy disgrace Were set abroach till justly they became To those that made and favour'd them a shame In Rimes and Libels they have done thee wrongs Thou hast beene mention'd in their drunken Songs Who nothing worse unto thy charge could lay But that thou didst not seeme so bad as they Meere Strangers who are quite unknowne of thee Although they see not what thy manners be Take pleasure to traduce thee and to draw Those things in question which they never saw Nay at their publike meetings few forbeare To speake that sâ—andall which they thinke or heare Ev'n since this Plague began and whiâ—st thy hand Recording was that Iudgement on this Land Thou art inform'd that Westward from this place Some scores of miles a generall rumor wâ—â— Both of thy biding here and of thy death And they who said thou hadst expir'd thy breath Supposing as
it seemes it could not be That God from this Disease would shelter thee Reported also that of Grace forsaken And by the sin of Drunkennesse o'retaken Thou brokâ—st thy neck It may be those men thought That when the Plagueâ—hy â—hy life to end bad brought They shâ—uld have added somâ—what to have slaine The life of good Report which might remaine Nor was that ayme quite void For though of all Grosse sins the staine of tâ—at least bâ—ur thee shall Some straight beleev'd what malice did surmise Condemn'd thy Vertues for Hypocrisies Made guilty all thy Lines of evill ends Vs'd thee as Iob was used by his friends Did on thy Life unâ—hristian Censures passe Affirm'd thy Death had showed what it was And many a one that heard it shall not know Vntill his dying day it was not so But then they shall perceive that most of that Is false which men of others use to prate But wonder it is none that thou among Some Strangers in thy Fame hast suffred wrong For â—o thy Neighbours though they privy be To no such act as may difparage thee But unto many rather which in show Appeared from a Christian minde to flow Ev'n they in private whisp'rings many times Have taxed thee as guilty of those crimes Thou never perpetratedst but dost more Abhor them then do Mizers to be poore And from thâ—se blots the more thy life is free The more is theirs defilde by slaundring thâ—e In wicked Places where yet nâ—ver came Thy fooâ— some acâ—ed follies in thy name That others present knowing not thy face Might spread abroad of thee to thy disgrace VVhat others did And such a mischiefe none But perfect Malice could have thought upon Thy very Prayers and thy Charities Have â—â—cked beene and judg'd hypocrisies When thou wert beâ—â— employed thou wert sâ—re The bâ—sest imputations to endure When thy intentions haâ—e beene most sincere Mens misconstructions alwayes haâ—shest were And when thy piouâ—â— action thou hadst wrought Then they the greatest mischiefe on thee brought The best and most approved of those Laies By thee composed for thy Makers praise Have lately greatly multipli'd thy Fâ—es And not procur'd alone the spight of those Whom brutish Ignorance besâ—ts among The misconceiving and illâ—terate throng But they who on the seats of Iudgement sate Thee and those Labours have inveighed at The Learned who should wiser men have beene Did censure that which they had never seene Ev'n they wâ—o make faire shewes of sanctiâ—y God grant it be not with hypocrisiâ— With spightfulnesse that scarce can matched be Have shamefully trâ—duced that and thee Nay of the Clergy some and of the chiefe Have with unseemly fâ—ry post beleefe So undervalu'd and so vilifi'd Those Labors which the tryall will abide When their proud spleene is wasted that unlesse God had in mercy curb'd their furiousnesse And by his might abated in some measure That pow'r of acting their impeâ—ious pleasure Their place and that opinion they had gained Of knowledge and sincerity unfained Had long ere this no doubt made so contemn'd Those Lines and thee that thou hadst beene condemn'd VVithout a triall And so true a feeling Hadst gain'd ere now of base and partiall dealing That Discontenâ—â—ight then have urg'd thy stay In hope this Plague would thâ—t have tooke away But thou by others hast receiv'd the â—â—ings Of Malice otherwayes in other things Those men whose over-grosse and open crimeâ— Are justly taxed in thiâ—â—â—onest â—imes Have by the generall notice of thy name Sought how to bring thee to a generall shame By raising causelesse rumors to be blowne Through ev'ry quarter where thy lines are knowne For there 's no place without an enuious â—are And slanâ—rous tongues be ready ev'ry where To cast with willingnesse disgrace on those Of whom some good report beforehand goes And since thou canst not answer ev'ry man As he that 's knowne in some few Townships can The falsest Rumors Men divulge of thee Doe soone become a common Fame to be Moreover that lesse cause there may appeare Why thou shouldst life desire or dying feare The most affected thing this world containes Hath torâ—ur'd thee with most heart-breaking paines For they whom thou hast loved they to whom Thou didst obliged many wayes become Yea â—hey who knew thy faithfulnesse ev'n they Have made their outward kindnesses the way To make thee most ingratefull seeme to be Yea they have heaped more disgrace on thee More griefes and disadvantages then all Thy Foes together bring upon thee shall And long pursued have to thy vexation Their courses with harsh trickes of agâ—ravation Yet still pretending Love which makes the curse Of this Affliction twenty times the worse I will â—ot say that thou afflâ—cted art In this by them without thy owne desert For who perceives in all how he offends Or thinks that God correction causelesse sends Nor will I say this injury proceeds Fromany Malice For perhaps it breeds From their distemper'd love And God to show Some needfullsecret which thou best maist know By this experiment a while doth please To make thy late Contentments thy Disease Thy first Acquaintanâ—e who did many a yeare Enjoy thy fellowship and glad appeare To seeme thy friends have wearied out their love By length of time and strangers now doe prove Thou also seest thy new acquaintance be Worne out as fast as gotten For to thee Most come for nothing but to satisfie Their idle fruitlesse curiositie And having seene and found thee but a man Their friendship ended just as it began Nay they who all thy course of life have seene And in appearancâ— have perswaded beene So well of thy uprightnesse as if noâ—ght Could move in them of thee one â—vill thought These by a little absence or the sound Of some untrue Relation wanting ground Doe all their good opinion someâ—ime change Suspect thy mannâ—rs and themselves â—strange So unexpecteâ—ly and without cause That what to judge of them it makes thee pause For they that vertuous are but in the show Doe soone suspect that all men else are so Thâ—se things are very bitter unto such Whose hearts are sensible to ev'ry touch Of kindnesse and unkindnesse and they make Life tedious where they deepe imprâ—ssion take But many other griefes thy Soule doe grinde And thou by them art pained in a kinde So diffâ—ring from the common sense of others Although thy patience much distemper smothers That Reason might me thinkes contented be Thou shouldst pursue thy Death to set thee free I speâ—ke not this as if thou didst repinâ— At these or any other lots of thine Nor to discourage thee beâ—ause the World So little of her Grace on thee hath hurl'd For I would have thee scorne her love and know That wheâ—her shâ— will favour thâ—e or no I wilâ— in thy due season make thee rise To honor by that way which meâ— despise Ev'n to those honors which are greater then The greatest that conferred are by men And this I mention in