to his ceremonies too much awe I misse his sweetest selfe of far more cost Sith rather vvith the Truth I should have beene Than vvorking that vvhich but a Tipe vvas seene The Sabboth day so strickt solemnized The standing by his Coarse had not prophan'd By vvhich prophanest things are sanctified And that made pure vvhich earst vvas foulely stain'd Whose touch doth not defile the thing that 's clean But most defiled maketh faire againe But vvhen I should have staid I vvent away And vvhen it vvas too late I came againe In time of helpe Ah then my helpe did stay Now I repent my follie but in vaine My carelesse heed hath brought a heape of care And carefull I must ceaselesse teares prepare Ah let my heart into sad sighs dissolve Let eies consume their flouds in brinish teares Let soule cares captive in dislikes resolve To languish still sunke vvith despaire and feares Let all I have endure deserved paine That pennance due sins losses may regaine But ah my sweetest Iesu my deare heart Thou art not novv vvhere thou vvert but of late And yet alas I know not vvhere thou art Oh vvretched case oh lamentable state Such haplesse state unhappie I live in To better it I cannot yet begin Alas my ioy my hope my cheefe desire How hast thou left me vvavering thus in doubt In mazed moodinesse my thoughts to tire Wandering in vvoe and cannot find vvay out If I stay here I cannot find thee so To seeke elsewhere I know not vvhere to goe To leave the Tombe is for to gaine vnrest To stand still helpelesse is a curelesse paine So all my comfort in this plot doth rest Helpelesse to stay or going hope in vaine And to this choise poore soule I am left free Which is to say vvith vvhat death I vvill die And yet even this too happie a choice vvould be For me so vile so base unhappie vvretch For if to chuse my death it lay in me How soone should I that execution catch How vvilling vvould I be to stop lives breath If I might point the manner of my death I vvould be nailed to the selfesame crosse With those same nailes and in the selfesame place Where bloudie Iewes did butcher up my losse His speare should vvound my hart his thorns my face His vvhips my bodie I vvould tast all smart To tread his steps in an embrued hart But oh ambitious thoughts gaze not so hie Vpon so sweet divine felicitie Thinke not vvith such a glorious death to die Whose life is privie to such infamie Death I deserv'd not one but many a death But not so sweet a meane to stop my breath So sweet a death seasoned vvith such deepe ioy The instruments vvhereof dead corpes vvould raise And most impurest soules from sinne destroy And make it pure to yeeld thee pure due praise A scourge too much ah vvhere alas too small For my offences to be beat vvithall And therefore am I left more deaths to tast Than I live houres and far more vvoes to shun Than I have thoughts for my lost ioy to vvast Which are in number more then motes in Sun Vnhappie me vvhose vveake estate must beare The violence of such confused care But sith I cannot as he died die Nor yet can live vvhere he now liveth dead To end my dying life I here vvill lie Fast by his grave and leane my vvearie head Vpon his tombe on vvhose most sweet repose I le leave to live and death my eies shall close Better it is after his bodies losse His sacred bodie vvhich all creatures ioy'de To keepe his sepulchre from farther crosse Than loosing one to let both be destroy'de Though I have lost the Saint of clearest shine I vvill at least have care to keepe the shrine And to this shrine I le sacrifice my heart Though it be spoiled of the soveraigne host It shall the altar be and sacred part Where I my teares vvill offer vvith the most My teares destilled from my hearts deepe paine Which going out my sighs shall blow againe Here in this place oh happie place I le lead Yea lead and end my vvofull loathed life That at the least my cold grave may be made Neare to this tombe vvhere I have told my griefe Near this stone-couch my eies their light shall lose Which my Lord made the place of sweet repose It may be so this Sindon lying here Thus emptie left and serving to no use This tombe being open vvithout any there May pierce some piteous heart for to peruse My naked bones whose rights for to preferre This shroud may wrap this sweet tomb interre But oh too fortunat a lot to crave For her that is a vvretch so unfortunate No no I seeke not such a blisse to have Alas I dare not beg so good estate But yet if such a sinne may passe unblam'd I vvould forgive by vvhom it first vvas fram'd And if to vvish no more presumption vvere In me alive than to permit it dead If I knew him that first should passe me here My teares should vvoo to have my corpes so laid And vvith my praiers I that man vvould hire To blesse me vvith this blisse vvhich I desire And though I dare not vvish that anie do it Yet this vvithout offence to all I say This Sindon hath my love so ty'de unto it Above all clothes I love to it will pay And this same Tombe my heart more deare doth deeme Than anie Princes Hearse of most esteeme Yea and I thinke that coarse is favoured much That shall my Lord in this same Tombe succeed And for my part as my resolve is such Vpon this plot to meet Deaths fatall deed So doe I vvish that in the readiest grave My breathlesse bones the right of buriall have But this is all and I dare say no more My bodie I vvill leave to what befals And in this paradise all ioy vvill store For my poore soule vvhich flesh and bloud inthrals Which frō this brittle case shall passe even than Into the glorious Tombe of God and Man Marie Magdalens second Lamentation For the losse of the bodie which shee came to annoint BVt stay my Muse I feare my maisters love The only portion that my fortune left me Would languish in my breast and chillish prove Sith vvarmth to cherish it vvas quite bereft me His vvords his presence gone vvhich fed my flame And not the ashes left to rake the same My spice and ointments shall be then prepar'd To pay last tribute of externall dutie Though others have thereto devoutly car'd And brought the best in vvorth in vvorke in beautie Yet such desire my dutie doth inherit That I must yeeld my love my latest merit My love each quantitie too little deem'd Vnlesse that mine vvere added thereunto Best quantitie too meane and not esteem'd Except vvith mine it somewhat have to doe No diligence ynough for to apply Vnlesse my service be employed by Nor doe I thus sharpe censure others deeds
But 'cause love makes me covetous of doing Though Iosephs vvorke no reprehension needs Though to my wish his baulme he vvas bestowing Yet all he did cannot my love suffise But I must actor be to please mine eies Such is the force of true affecting love To be as eagre in effects t' appeare As it is zealous fervently to move Affections firme to vvhat it holdeth deare This love devout sets my poore heart on fire To shew some deed of my most deepe desire And to embaulme his breathlesse corps I came As once afore I did annoint his feet And to preserve the reliques of the same The only remnant that my blisse did meet To vveepe afresh for him in deapth of dole That lately vvept to him for mine owne soule But loe alas I find the grave vvide ope The bodie gone the emptie Sindon left The hollow Tombe I every where doe grope To be assur'd of vvhat I am sure bereft The labour of embaulming is prevented But cause of endlesse vveeping is augmented He vvanting is unto my obsequies That vvas not vvanting to my ceaselesse teares I find a cause to move my miseries To ease my vvoe no vvisht for ioy appeares Thus though I misse vvhom to annoint I meant Yet have I found a matter to lament I having settled all my sole desires On Christ my love vvho all my love possest In vvhose rare goodnesse my affection fires Whom to enioy I other ioies supprest Whose peerelesse vvorth unmatcht of all that live Being had all ioy and lost all sorrowes give The life of lives thus murthering in his death Doth leave behind him lasting to endure A generall death to each thing having breath And his decease our nature hath made pure Yet am poore I of ornament bereft And all the vvorld vvithout perfection left What marvell then if my hearts hot desire And vehement love to such a lovely Lord To see lifes vvracke vvith scalding sighs aspire And for his bodies losse such vvoe afford And feele like tast of sorrow in his misse As in his presence I enioied blisse And though my teares destil'd from moistned eies Are rather oile than vvater to my flame More apt to nourish sorrow in such vvise Than to deminish or abate the same Yet silly soule I plung'd in deapth of paine Doe yeeld my selfe a captive to complaine Most true it is that Peter came and Iohn With me unto the Tombe to trie report They came in hast and hastily were gone They having searcht dare make no more resort And vvhat gain'd I two vvitnesse of my losse Dismaiers of my hope cause of more crosse Love made them come but love was quickly quail'd With such a feare as cal'd them soone away I poore I hoping in despaire assail'd Without all feare persevering still to stay Because I thought no cause of feare vvas left Sith vvhom I feard was from my sight bereft For I poore soule have lost my maister deare To vvhom my thoughts devoutly vvere combin'd The totall of my love my cheefest cheare The height of hope in vvhom my glorie shin'd My finall feare and therefore him excepted No other hope nor love nor losse respected Worse feare behind vvas death vvhich I desired And feared not my soules life being gone Without vvhich I no other life required And in vvhich death had been delight alone And thus ah thus I live a dying life Yet neither death nor life can end my strife Yet now me thinkes t is better die than live For haply dying I my love may find Whom vvhile I live no hope at all can give And he not had to live I have no mind For nothing in my selfe but Christ I lov'd And nothing ioies my Iesus so remov'd If any thing alive to keepe me striv'd It is his image cause it should not die With me vvhose likenesse love in me contriv'd And treasured up in sweetest memorie From vvhich my love by no vvay can depart Vnlesse I rip the centre of my heart Which had been done but that I feard to burst The worthlesse Trunck which my dear Lord inclosed In vvhich the reliques of lost ioy vvas trust And all the remnant of my life imposed Else greefe had chang'd my hart to bleeding tears And fatall end had past from pittious ears Yet pittious I in so unperfit sort Doe seeme to draw my undesired breath That true I prove this often-heard report Love is more strong than life-destroying death For vvhat more could pale death in me have done Than in my life performed plaine is showne My vvits destraught and all my sence amaz'd My thoughts let loose and fled I know not vvhere Of understanding robd I stand agaz'd Not able to conceit vvhat I doe heare That in the end finding I did not know And seeing could not vvell discerne the show I am not vvhere I am but vvith my love And vvhere he is poore soule I cannot tell Yet from his sight nothing my heart can move I more in him than in my selfe doe dwell And missing vvhom I looke for vvith sad seeking Poor vvo-worn womaÌ„ at the Tomb stay weeping Marie Magdalens third Lamentation In finding the Angels and missing whom shee sought BVt hope-beguiling fortune now to châ—ere My long-sad spirits vvith a shade of ioy With Angels presents doth preseÌ„t me here GraÌ„ting a momeÌ„ts mirth to increase annoy For looking him though for him I find twaine To thinke on him redoubleth still my paine Yet for a time I vvill revive my soule With this good hope vvhich may my hopes exceed Comfort sweet comfort shall my cares controule Releefe may hatch vvhere greefe did lately breed I seeke for one and now have found out twaine A bodie dead yet two alive againe My vvofull vveeping all vvas for a Man And now my teares have Angels bright obtained I vvill suppresse my sigh-swolne sadnesse than And glad my heart vvith this good fortune gained These Heaven attendants to a parle envite me I le heare vvhat they vvill say it may delight me For I assure my selfe if that the corse By fraud or mallice had removed bin The linnen had not found so much remorse But had been caried too away vvith him Nor could the Angels looke so chearefully But of some happier chance to vvarrant me And for to free me from all feares even now They thus encounter these their speeches vvere And thus they spake Woman vvhy vveepest thou As if they bad me vveeping to forbeare For ill it fits a mortall eye should vveepe Where heavenly Angels such reioicing keepe Erewhile they said Thou camst vvith manly courage Arming thy feet through greatest thornes to run Thy bodie to endure all tyrants rage Thy soule no violent tortures for to shun And art thou now so much a vvoman made Thou canst not bid thine eies from teares be staide If that thou hadst a true Disciples name So many certaine proofes vvould thee persuade But incredulitie so blots the same Thou of that title art unvvorthie made And therefore vvoman
high To meaner hopes and leave aloft to câ—ime Siâ—h â—oâ—mer favours now are maâ—kes too high Either â—o levell at or to come nigh But oh ambitious â—ies for so vveake sight He is too bright a Sunne your lookes are ty'de And now are limitted to meaner light And rather like a Bart than Eagle ey'de You must your selves t'inâ—eriour lookes submit For him to see such substance is unfit No no sith 〈…〉 his feet reiected How can I thinke but that my vvant of faith Is cause I am so slenderly respected Anâ— that his heart to yeeld me love gainesaith Yea that I am from all possession throwne Of his kind favour vvhich vvere earst mine owne Yet vvhy should I stoope to a feare so base When vvant of faith vvith sinne vvas vvorse agreeved He did vouchsafe to grâ—â—nt me of his grace And shall I now cause faintly I beleeved Thinke that my Lord so rigorously vvill deale As to abridge me of this vvished vveale Is the sinceritie of my pure Love Wherein he hath no partener at all In no respect availeable to move Or in account is it so light and small As that it may not hope some sparke to find Of vvonted mercie and his graâ—â— so kind I vvill not vvrong him vvith so â—â—iust a thought Sith his appearing doth approve the same His vvords o'rethrow that such suspition vvrought His countenance doth teâ—l I am to blame Why then should I from such a vaine surmise Sucke so much sorrow in such foolish vvise Thus as I travailed in this iourney short My fantasies long voiages did make And heal'd my mind in such a vvavering sort Hope could not vvin nor feare vvould not forsake But twixt them both my vision made me glad And greefe of my deniall made me sad But as I vvas in this perplexed vvise Rising and falling in uncertainetie The other holy vvomen I espie That first vvith me came to the grave to see To vvhom the Angels had made demonstration Of Christ my Lord and maisters resurrection The Conclusion Iesus met them saying All Haile OH how profound are all thy iudgements Lord How doest thou take my sorrow to thy heart How doth thy eies such bleeding drops afford To see my vvounded love and greevous smart That thy refusall late required is With such a grant so free and full of blis Full of content the baulme of troubled mind That tooke no pleasure vvhere thy presence vvanted But oh how grace hath graced me to find The love vvherevvith my soule is cheefe acquainted His love 's my life by his love my life liveth For to my soule his love the life breath giveth Now are the dolefull darke and pitcht-fac'd clouds Dispearst and driven from my comforts face Those melancholy moist and vvat'rie shrouds That did the brightnesse of my ioies displace Wrapping me up as in eternall night Vanisht they are seeing my hearts delight Delight in him to vvhom all love is debt Seal'd vvith the heart the soule and all the might A paiment that admits no vvorldly let To linger or defraud a heavenly right Which if I cannot pay as due requires Accept O Lord thy debtors true desires Let me thy everlasting prisoner be Chain'd in the linkes of an eternall love My vvant and vvill is only knowne to thee A vvilling debtour I vvill ever prove And vvhat I have I freely doe bestowe Take all my vvorth for part of that I owe. Oh Christian soule take Marie to thy mirrour And if thou vvilt the like effects obtaine Then follow her in like affections fervour And so vvith her like mercie shalt thou gaine Learn sinfull man of this once sinfull vvoman That sinners may find Christ vvhich sin abandon That love recovereth him that sinne did lose That firme beleefe recalleth that againe Which fainting faith did quite forsake to chose That vvhat nor force nor favour can obtaine Nor pollicie by mortall meanes bring in Continued teares of constant love can vvin Learne then of her for Christ no force to feare And out of Christ no comfort to desire With Christ his love all love though ne're so deare To over-rule to quench fond fancies fire Rise earely soule in thy good motions morne Sleepe not in sloth vvhen diligence may performe Run vvith repentance to thy sinfull hart Which should the Temple undefil'd have bin But through thy fault deserves no better part Than be the Tombe for Christ to burie in For vvanting life to tast this heavenly bread He seem'd to thee as if he had been dead Remove the loads that presse thee downe in sin The stone of former hardnesse roule away Looke to thy soule if Christ be lodg'd therein And if thou find that there he doe not stay Then weepe without in other creatures mind him Sith had in all in any thou maist find him Make faith thine eie hope guide and love thy light Seeke him not his for himselfe not his meeds If faith have found him in a cloudie night Let hope seeke for him vvhen the day spring breeds If hope to see him have thee luckly led Let love seeke further in him to be fed If Sorrow knocke Remorse is Mercies porter And ever opens to let Dolour in Vnto that dore be thou a quicke resorter T is much to save the losse that comes by sin He that of Sorrow is true mournefull taster Doth feele sins smart and find sins salving plaster Strive vvith thy thoughts being all prepar'd together To rise out of mortalities foule mire Which hath no standing nor firme footing neither Prevent the daunger and in time retire Crave to be cleane of that same filth sinne urged For vvho is pure that Iesus hath not purged He can the ruines of thy soule repaire He yet destributeth his mercies treasure The dore stands open yet thy suite prepare Let not repentance stay old ages leasure When the Meridian of thy Sun 's once past The night of Nature hies upon thee fast Awake therefore vvatch th'evils hourely nie Provide before thou be surpriz'd of breath Vpon the pale horse heedfull cast thine eie Note him that sits thereon vvhose name is Death Be readie for the stroke he is to give For feare thou die ere thou begin to live Oh mild Physician how vvell didst thou know Thy corosive so sharp did greeve my vvound Which did by ignorance not errour grow Therefore no sooner felt but helpe vvas found Thy linative appli'de did ease my paine For though thou did forbid t was no restraine And now to shew that thy deniall late Was but a cheeke to my unsetled faith And no reiecting of my fault vvith hate Thou letst me vvash thy feet in my teare bath I kisse them too the seales of our redemption My love renewed vvith endlesse consolation Thus hast thou Lord full finished my teares Assured my hopes contented my desireâ— Repai'd my love â—â—extirped 〈◊〉 my feaâ—es Perfected ioies vvith all that heart requires And made the period of expiring greefes The preamble to ever fresh releefes How mercifull a father art thou Lord To poore forsaken Orphans in distresse How soft a iudge that iudgement doth afford With mildest grace to sinners comfortlesse How sure a friend unto a syncere lover Whose pure and faithfull love doth alter never Thou then that art vvith diligence prepar'd Going vvith speed standing vvith hopes lift hie Humbling thy heart thy haughtie vvill impar'd If thou vvith Marie none but Christ vvould see Himselfe vvill to thy teares an answere give And his owne vvords assure thee he doth live That sweetly he vnto thee being showne To others thou maist run and make him knowne FINIS