Charity be wanting nought a vailes me ¶ Lord in my Soule a spirit of Love create me And I will love my Brother if he hate me In nought but love let me envy my betters And then Forgive my debts as I my detters 8. ¶ I Finde a true resemblance in the growth Of Sin and Man A like in breeding both The Soul 's the Mother and the Devill Syer Who lusting long in mutuall desier Enjoy their Wils and joyne in Copulation The Seed that fils her wombe is foule Tentation The sinnes Conception is the Soules coâ—sent And then it quickens when it breeds content The birth of Sin is finisht in the action And Custome brings it to its full perfection ¶ O let my fruitlesse Soule be barren rather Then bring forth such a Child for such a Father Or if my Soule breed Sinne not being wary Let not her wombe bring forth or else miscarry She is thy Spouse O Lord doe thou advise her Keepe thou her chast Let not the Fiend entice her Try thou my heart Thy Trials bring Salvation But let me not be led into temptation 9. ¶ FOrtune that blinde supposed Goddesse is Still rated at if ought suceed amisse 'T is shee the vaine abuse of Providence That beares the blame wheÌ„ others make th' offence When this mans barne finds not her wonted store Fortun 's condâ—mn'd because she sent no more If this man dye or that man live too long Fortun 's accus'd and she hath done the wrong Ah foolish Dolls and like â—our Goddesse blinde You make the fault and call your Saint unkinde For when the cause of Ev'll begins in Man Th' effect ensues from whence the cause began Then know the reason of thy discontent Thy ev'll of Sinne makes the Ev'll of punishment ¶ Lord hold me up or spurre mee when I fall So shall my Ev'll bee just or not at all Defend me from the World the Flesh the Devill And so thou shalt deliver me from Evill 10. ¶ THe Priestly Skirts of A'rons holy coate I kisse and to my morning Muse devote Had never King in any age or Nation Such glorious Robes set forth in such a fashion With Gold and Gemmes and Silks of Princely Dye And Stones befitting more than Majesty The Persian Sophies and rich Shaeba's Queene Had n'er the like nor e'r the like had seene Vpon the Skirts in order as they fell First a Pomegranat was and then a Bell By each Pomegranat did a Bell appeare Many Pomegranats many Bels there were Pomegranats nourish Bels doe make a sound As blessings fall Thanksgiving must rebound ¶ If thou wilt cloth my heart with A'rons tyer My tongue shall praise as well as heart desier My tongue and pen shall dwell upon thy Story Great God for thine is Kingdome Power Glory 11. ¶ THe Ancient Sophists that were so precise and oftentimes perchance too curious nice Averre that Nature hath bestow'd on Man Three perfect Soules When this I truly scan Me thinks their Learning swath'd in Errour lyes They were not wise enough and yet too wise Too curious wise because they mention more Then one Not wise enough because not foure Nature not Grace is Mistris of their Schooles Grace counts them wisest that are veriest Fooles Three Soules in man Grace doth a fourth allow The Soule of Faith But this is Greeke to you 'T is Faith that makes man truly wise 'T is Faith Makes him possesse that thing he never hath ¶ This Glorious Soule of Faith bestow on me O Lord or else take thou the other three Faith makes men lesse then Children more then Men It makes the Soule cry Abba and Amen The End PENTELOGIA Morstua Mors Christi Fraus Mundi Gloria Coeli Et Dâ—lor Inferni sunt meditanda tibi Thy death the death of Christ the worlds teÌ„tation Heavens joy hels torment be thy meditation LONDON Printed for IOHN MARRIOT 1632. Mors tua 1. ¶ ME thinkes I see the nimble-aged Sire Passe swiftly by with feet unapt to tire Vpon his head an Hower-glasse he weares And in his wrinkled hand a Sythe he beares Both Instruments to take the lives from Men Th' one shewes with what the other sheweth when Me thinkes I heare the dolefull Passing-bell Setting an onset on his louder knell This moody musick of impartiall Death Who dances after dances out of breath Me thinkes I see my dearest friends lament With sighs and teares and wofull dryriment My tender Wife and Children standing by Dewing the Death-bed whereupon I lie Me thinkes I heare a voyce in secret say Thy glasse is runne and thou must die to day Mors Christi 2. ¶ ANd am I here and my Redeemer gone Can He be dead and is not my life done Was he tormented in excesse of measure And doe I live yet and yet live in pleasure Alas could Sinners finde out ne're a one More fit than Thee for them to spit upon Did thy cheekes entertaine a Traylors lips Was thy deare body scourg'd and torne with whips So that the guiltlesse blood came trickling after And did thy fainting browes sweat blood and water Wert thou Lord hang'd upon the Cursed Tree O world of griefe And was all this for me ¶ Burst forth my teares into a world of sorrow And let my nights of griefe finde ne're a morrow Since thou art dead Lord grant thy servant roome Within his heart to build thy heart a Tombe Fraus Mundi 3. ¶ WHat is the World a great exchange of warâ— Wherein all sorts sexes cheapning art The Flesh the Devill sit and cry What lacke ye When most they fawn they most intend to rack ye The wares are cups of Ioy and beds of Pleasure Ther 's goodly choice down weight flowing meâ—sure A soul 's the price but they give time to pay Vpon the Death-bed on the dying day ¶ Hard is the bargaine and unjust the measure When as the price so much out-lasts the pleasure The joyes that are on earth are counterfaits If ought be true 't is this Th' are true deceits They flatter fawne and like the Crocodile Kill where they laugh and murther where they smile They daily dip within thy Dish and cry Who hath betraid thee Master Is it I Gloria Coeli 4. ¶ VVHen I behold and well advise upon The Wisemans speech There 's nought beneath the Sun But vanity my soule rebels within And lothes the dunghill prison she is in But when I looke to new Ierusalem Wherein 's reserv'd my Crown my Diadem O what a Heaven of blisse my Soule enjoyes On sudden rapt into that heaven of Ioyes Where ravisht in the depth of meditation She well discernes with eye of contemplation The glory ' of God in his Imperiall Seat Full strong in Might in Majesty compleat Where troops of Powers Vertues Cherubims Angels Archangels Saints and Seraphims Are chaunting prayses to their heavenly King Where Hallelujah they for ever sing Dolor Inferni 5. ¶ LEt Poets please to torture Tanialus Let griping Vultures
DIVINE POEMES Reuised and Corrected with Additions By the Author Fra Quarles Printed for Iohn Marriott in St Dunstons Church yard 〈…〉 DIVINE POEMS Containing The History of IONAH ESTER IOB SAMPSON SIONS SONETS ELEGIES Written and newly augmented BY FRA QVARLES LONDON Printed by M. F. for I. MARRIOT and are to be sold at his Shop in St. Dunstans Church-yard in Fleet-streete TO THE SACRED MAIESTIE of King CHARLES SIR WHen your Landed Subject dyes and leaves none of his Blood to inherite the Lawes of this your Kingdome finds the King heyre In this Volume are contained severall Poems lately dedicated to divers of your Nobility whom they have out-lived So that the Muses who seldome or never give honour for lifes have found them all for the King which have here gathered together and prostrated before the feet of your Sacred Majesty Indeed one of them I formerly dedicated and presented to your selfe So that now they are become doubly yours both by Escheate and as Survivour And if you please to owne me as your servant your Majestie hath another Title good by which I most desire they should bee knowne yours I will not sin against the common good so much as to expect your Majesties serious eye upon them If when your Crowne shall be most favourable to your Princely browes you please to afford a gracious hearing they will with the helpe of some benevolous Reader and your Royall acceptance I hope relish in your sacred eares and receive honour from your accustomed goodnes farre above their merits or the expectation of Your true-hearted and loyall Liegeman FRA QVARLES To the READER I List not to tyre thy patient eares with unnecessary Language the abuse of Complementâ— My mouth 's no Dictionary it only serves as the needfull Interpreter of my Heart I have here sent thee the first fruits of an abortive Birth It is a daintie Subject not Fabulous but Truth it selfe Wonder not at the Title A FEAST FOR VVORMES for it is a Song of Mercy What greater FEAST than Mercy And what are Men but WORMES Moreover I have gleaned some few Meditatations obvious to the History Let mee advise thee to keepe the Taste of the one whilest thou readest the other and that will make thee relish both the better Vnderstanding Reader favour mee Gently expound what it is too late to correct He leva le Golpe Dios sea con ella Farewell THE PROPOSITION of this first Worke. â—TIs not the Record of great Hectors glory Whose matchlesse Valour makes the World a Story Nor yet the swelling of that Romans name That onely Came and Look'd and Overcame Nor One nor All of those brave Worthies nine Whose Might was great and Acts almost divine That live'd like Gods but dy'd like Men and gone Shall give my Pen a Taske to treat upon I sing the praises of the KING of Kings Out of whose mouth a two-edg'd Smiter springs Whose Words are Mystery whose Works are Wonder Whose Eyes are Lightning and whose Voice is Thunder Who like a Curtaine spreads the Heavens out Spangled with Starres in Glory round about 'T is He that cleft the furious waves in twaine Making a High-way passage through the Maine 'T is He that turn'd the waters into Blood And smote the Rocky stone and caus'd a Flood 'T is He that 's justly armed in his Ire Behinde with Plagues before with flaming Fire More bright than mid-day Phoebus are his Eyes And whosoever sees his Visage dyes I sing the Praises of Great Iudahs Lyon The fragrant Flowre of Iesse the Lambe of Sion Whose Head is whiter than the driven Snow Whose visage doth like flames of Fier glow His Loynes begirt with golden Belt his Eyne Like Titan ridinst in his Southerne Shine His Feet like burning Brasse and as the noise Of surgie Neptunes roaring in hiâ— Voice This is that Paschall Lambe whose dearest Blood Is soveraigâ—e Drinke whose Flesh is saving Food His precious Blood the Worthies of the Earth Did drinke which though but borne of mortall birth Return'd them Deities For who drinkes This Shall be receiv'd into Eternall Blisse Himselfe 's the Gift which He himselfe did give His Stripes heale us and by His Death we live He acting God and Man in double Nature Did reconcile Mankinde and Mans Creator I heere 's a Taske indeed If Mortalls could Not make a Verse yet Rockes and Mountaines would The Hills shall dance the Sunne shall stop his Course Hearing the subiect of this high Discourse The Horse and Gryphin shall together sleepe The Wolfe shall fawne upon the silly Sheepe The crafty Serpent and the fearfull Hart Shall joyne in Consort and each beare a part And leape for Ioy when my Vrania sings She sings the praises of the King of Kings The Introduction ¶ THat Ancient Kingdome that old Assur swayd Shew'd two great Cities Ah! but both decayd Both mighty Great but of unequall growth Both great in People and in Building both But ah What hold is there of earthly good Now Grasse growes there where these brave Cities stood The name of one great Babylon was hight Through which the rich Euphrates takes her flight From high Armenia to the ruddy Seas And stores the Land with rich Commodities ¶ The other Ninus Nineveh the Great So huge a Fabricke and well-chosen Seat Don Phoebus fiery Steeds with Maines becurl'd That circundates in twice twelve houres the world Ne're saw the like By great King Ninus hand 'T was rais'd and builded in th' Assyâ—ians Land On one hand Lycus washt her fruitfull sides On t'other Tygris with her hasty â—ides Begirt she was with walles of wondrous might Creeping twice fifty foot in measur'd height Vpon their bredth if ought we may rely On the report of Sage Antiquity Three Chariots fairely might themselves display And ranke together in a Baâ—tell ray The Circuit that her mighty Bulke imbraces Containes the mete of sixty thousand 〈◊〉 Within her well-fenc'd walls you might discover Five hundred stately Towers thrice told over Whereof the highest draweth up the eye As well the low'st an hundred Cubits hie All rich in those things which to state belong For beauty brave and for munition strong Duly and daily this great Worke was tended With ten thousand Workmen begun and ended In eight yeares space How beautifull how faire Thy Buildings And how foule thy Vices are ¶ Thou Land of Assur double then thy pride And let thy Wells of Ioy be never dry'd Thou hast a Palace that 's renown'd so much The like was never is nor will be such ¶ Thou Land of Assur treble then thy Wâ—â— And let thy Teares doe as thy Cups o'reflow For this thy Palace of so great renowne Shall be destroy'd and sackt and batter'd downe But cheere up Niniveh thine inbred might Hath meanes enough to quell thy Foemans spite Thy Bulwarkes are like Mountaines and thy Wall Disdaines to stoope to thundring Ordnance call Thy watchfull Towers mounted round about Keepe thee in safety and thy Foe-men out I
Strangers Fate Should be neglective of his owne estate Where is this love become in later age Alas 't is gone in endlesse pilgrimage From hence and never to returne I doubt 'Till revolution wheele those times about Chill brests have starv'd her here and she is driven Away and with Astraea fled to heaven Poore Charity that naked Babe is gone Her honey's spent and all her store is done Her winglesse Bees can finde out ne're a bloome And crooked Aâ—â— doth usurpe her roome Nepenthe's dry and Love can get no drinke And curs'd Arâ—enâ—e flowes above the brinke Brave Mariners the world your names shal hallow Admiring that in you that none dare follow Your friendship 's rare and your conversion straÌ„ge From Paganisme to zeale A sudden change Those men doe now the God of heaven implore That bow'd to Puppets but an houre before Their zeale is fervent though but new begun Before their egge-shels were done off they runne And when bright Phoebus in a Summer tide New risâ—n from the bosome of his Bride Enveloped with misty fogges at length Breakes forth displaies the mist with Southerne strength Even so these Mariners of peerlesse mirrour Their faith b'ing veil'd within the mist of errour At length their zeale chac'd ignorance away They left their Puppets and began to pray ¶ Lord how unlimited are thy confines That still pursu'st man in his good designes Thy mercy 's like the dew of Hermon hill Or like the Oyntment dropping downward still From Aarons head to beard from beard to foote So doe thy mercies drench us round about Thy love is boundlesse Thou art apt and free To turne to Man when Man returnes to thee THE ARGVMENT They cast the Prophet over boord The storme alay'd They feare the Lord A mighty Fish him quick devoures Where he remained many houres Sect. 6. EVen as a member whose corrupted sore Infests and rankles eating more and more Threatning the bodies losse if not prevented The wise chirurgion all faire meanes attented Cuts off and with advised skil doth choose To lose a part then all the body lose Even so the feeble Sailors that addresse Their idle armes where heaven denyes successe Forbeare their thrivelesse labours and devise To roote that Evill from whence their harms arise Treason is in their thoughts and in their eares Danger revives the old and addes new feares Their hearts grow fierce and every soule applies T' abandon mercy from his tender eyes They cease t' attempt what heaven so long withstood And bent to kill their thoughts are all on blood They whisper oft each word is Deaths Alarme They hoyst him up Each lends a busie arme And with united powers they entombe His out-cast body in Thetis angry wombe Whereat grim Neptune wip't his fomy mouth Held his tridented Mace upon the South The windes were whist the billows danc't no more The storme allay'd the heavens left off to rore The waves obedient to their pilgrimage Gave ready passage and surceast their rage The skie grew cleare and now the welcome light Begins to put the gloomy clouds to flight Thus all on sudden was the Sea tranquill The Heav'ns were quiet and the Waves were still As when a friendly Creditor to get A long forborne and much-concerning debt Still plies his willing debter with entreats Importunes daily daily thumps and beates The batter'd Portals of his tyred eares Bedeafing him with what he knowes and heares The weary debter to avoid the sight He loathes shifts here and there and ev'ry night Seekes out Protection of another bed Yet ne'rethelesse pursu'd and followed His eares are still laid at with lowder volley Of harder Dialect He melancholy Sits downe and sighs and after long foreslowing T' avoid his presence payes him what is owing The thankfull Creditor is now appeas'd Takes leave and goes away content and pleas'd Even so these angry waves with restlesse rage Accosted Ionas in his pilgrimage And thundred Iudgement in his fearefull eare Presenting Hubbubs to his guilty feare The waves rose discontent the Surges beat And every moments death the billowes threat The weather-beaten Ship did every minuit Await destruction while hee was in it But when his long expected corps they threw Into the deepe a debt through trespasse due The Seagrew kinde and all her frownes abated Her face was smooth to all that navigated 'T was sinfull Ionah made her storme and rage 'T was sinfull Ionah did her storme asswage With that the Mariners astonisht were And fear'd Iehovah with a mighty feare Offring up Sacrifice with one accord And vowing solemne vowes unto the Lord. But he whose word can make the earth's foundatioÌ„ Tremble and with his Word can make cessation Whose wrath doth mouÌ„t the waves toss the Seas And make theÌ„ calme smooth wheÌ„ e're he please This God whose mercy runs on endlesse wheele And puls like Iacob Iustice by the heele Prepar'd a Fish prepar'd a mighty Whale Whose belly was both prison-house and baile For retchlesse Ionah As the two leaf'd doore Opens to welcome home the fruitfull store Wherewith the harvest quits the Plowmans hope Even so the great Leviathan set ope His beame-like Iawes prepar'd for such a boone And at a morsell swallow'd Ionah downe 'Till dewy-check't Aurora's purple dye Thrice dappell'd had the ruddy morning skie And thrice had spred the Curtaines of the morne To let in Titan when the day was borne Ionah was Tenant to this living Grave Embowel'd deepe in this stupendious Cave Meditat. 6. LO Death is now as alwaies it hath bin The just procured stipend of our sinne Sinne is a golden Causie and a Road Garnisht with joyes whose pathes are even broad But leads at length to death and endlesse griefe To torments and to paines without reliefe Iustice feares none but maketh all afraid And then fals hardest when t is most delaid But thou reply'st thy sinnes are daily great Yet thou sittst uncontrold upon thy seat Thy wheat doth flourish and thy barnes do thrive Thy sheepe encrease thy sonnes are all alive And thou art buxom and hast nothing scant Finding no want of any thing but want Whil'st others whom the â—quint-ey'd world counts holy Sit sadly drooping in a melancholy With brow dejected and downe-hanging head Or take of almes or poorely begge their bread But young man know there is a Day of doome The Feast is good untill the reck'ning come The time runnes fastest where is least regard The stone that 's long in falling falleth hard There is a dying day thou prosp'rous foole When all thy laughter shall be turn'd to Doole Thy roabes to tort'ring plagues fel tormenting Thy whoops of Ioy to howles of sad lamenting Thy tongue shall yell and yawle and never stop And wish a world to give for one poore drop To flatter thine intolerable paine The wealth of Pluto could not then obtaine A minutes freedome from that hellish rout Whose fire burnes and never goeth out Nor house nor land not measur'd heaps of wealth
hopefull tokenâ— of reliefe Departs the presence of the King addrest In royall Robes and on his lofty Crest He bore a Crowne of Gold his body spred With Lawne and Purple deepely coloured Fill'd were the Iewes with triumphs with noise The common Heralds to proclaime true joyes Like as a prisner muffled at the tree Whose life 's remov'd from death scarce one degree His last pray'r said and hearts confession made His eyes possessing deaths eternall shade At last unlook'd for comes a slow Reprieve And makes him even as dead once more alive Amaz'd he rends deaths muffler from his eyes And over-joy'd knowes not he lives or dyes So joy'd the Iewes whose lives this new Decree Had quit from death and danger and set free Their gasping soules and like a blazing light Disperst the darknesse of the approaching night So joy'd the Iewes and with their solemne Feasts They chaâ—'d dull sorrow from their penâ—ive brestsâ— Meane while the people startled at the newes Some griev'd some envi'd some for feare turn'd Iewes Meditat. 16. AMong the noble Greekes it was no shame To lose a Sword It but deserv'd the name Of warres disastrous fortune but to yeeld The right and safe possession of the Shield Was foule reproach and manlesse cowardize Farre worse than death to him that scorn'd to prize His life before his Honour Honour 's wonne Most in a just defence Defence is gone The Shield once lost the wounded Theban cry'd How fares my Shield which safe he smil'd dy'd True honour bides at home and takes delight In keeping not in gaining of a Right Scornes usurpation nor seekes she blood And thirsts to make her name not great as good God gives a Right to man To man defence To guard it giv'n but when a false pretence Shall ground her title on a greater Might What doth he else but warre with heav'n and fight With Providence God seâ—s the Princely Crowne On heads of Kings Who then may take it downe No juster quarrell or more noble Fight Than to maintaine where God hath giv'n a Right There 's no despaire of Conquest in that warre Where God's the Leader Policy 's no barre To his designes no Power can withstand His high exploits within whose mighty Hand Are all the corners of the earth the hills His fensive bulwarks are which when he wills His lesser breath can bandy up and downe And crush the world and with a winke can drowne The spacious Vniverse in suds of Clay Where heav'n is Leader heav'n must win the day God reapes his honour hence That combat's safe Where hee 's a Combatant and ventures halfe Right 's not impair'd with weaknesse but prevailes In spight of strength wheÌ„ strength power failes Fraile is the trust repos'd on Troops of Horse Truth in a handfull findes a greater force ¶ Lord maile my heart with faith and be my shield And if a world confront me I 'le not yeeld THE ARGVMENT The bloody Massacre The Iâ—wes Prevaile their â—atall sword subdues A world of men and in that â—ray Hamans ten cursed sonnes they slay Sect. 17. NOw when as Time had rip'ned the Decree Whose Winter fruit unshaken from the tree Full ready was to fall and brought that Day Wherein pretended mischiefe was to play Her tragicke Sceane upon the Iewish Stage And spit the venome of her bloody rage Vpon the face of that dispersed Nation And in a minute breathe their desolation Vpon that day as patients in the fight Their scatter'd force the Iewes did reunite And to a head their straggling strength reduc'd And with their fatall hand their hand disus'd To bathe in blood they made so long recoyle That with a purple streame the thirsty soyle O'rflowd on the pavement drown'd with blood Where never was before they rais'd a flood There lies a headlesse body there a limme Newly dis-joynted from the trunke of him That there lies groaning here a gasping head Cropt froÌ„ his neighbors shoulders there halfe dead Full heapes of bodies whereof some curse Fate Others blaspheme the name of Heav'n and rate Their undisposed Starres with bitter cries One pities his poore widow-wife and dies Another bannes the night his sonnes were borne That he must dye and they must live forlorne Here all besmeard in blood congeald there lyes A throng of carcases whose livelesse eyes Are clos'd with dust death there lies the Syre Whose death the greedy heire did long desire And here the sonne whose hopes were all the pleasure His aged father had and his lifes treasure Thus fell their foes some dying and some dead And onely they that scap'd the slaughter fled But with such strange amazement were affrighted As if themselves in their owne deaths delighted That each his force against his friend addrest And sheath'd his sword within his neighbours brest For all the Rulers being sore afraid Of Mardocheus name with strength and ayde Supply'd the Iewes For Mardecheus name Grew great with honour and his honour'd Fame Was blaz'd through ev'ry Province of the Land And spred as farre as did the Kings Command In favour he increast and ev'ry how'r Did adde a greater greatnesse to his pow'r Thus did the Iewes triumph in victory And on that day themselves were doom'd to dye They slew th' appointed actors of their death And on their heads they wore that noble wreath That crownes a Victor with a Victors prize So fled their foes so dyde their enemies And on that day at Susan were imbru'd In blood five hundred men whom theyâ— subdu'd The cursed fruit of the accursed Tree That impious Decad Hamaâ—s progeny Vpon that fatall day they overthrew But tooke no spoile nor substance where they slew Medit. 17. I Lately mus'd and musing stood amaz'd My heart was bound my sight was overdaz'd To view a miracle could Pharo fall Before the face of Isr'el Could her small And ill-appointed handfull then prevaile When Pharo's men of warre and Charr'ots faile These stood like Gyants those like Pigmy brats These soar'd like Eagles those like swarms of gnats On foote these marcht those rod on troops of horse These never better arm'd they never worse Strong backt with vengeaÌ„ce revenge were they These with despaire themselves theÌ„selves betray They close pursu'd these fearefull fled the field How could they chuse but win or these but yeeld Sure 't is nor man nor horse nor sword availes When Isr'el conquers and great Pharo failes Poore Isr'el had no man of warre but One And Pharo having all the rest had none Heav'n fought for Isr'el weakned Pharo's heart Who had no Counter-god to take his part What meant that cloudy Pillar that by day Did usher Isr'el in an unknowne way What meant that fi'ry Pillar that by night Appear'd to Isr'el and gave Isr'el light 'T was not the secret power of Moses Rod That charm'd the Seas in twaine 't was Moses God That fought for Isr'el and made Pharo fall Well thrives the Fray where God's the Generall 'T is neither
the Iayle â—his neglected Schoole turnes speedy tayle â—â—on his tedious booke so ill befriended â—â—fore his Masters Iie be full ended So thanklesse Satan full of winged haste Thinking all time not spent in Mischiefe waste Departs with speed lesse patient to forbeare The patient Iob then patient Iob to beare Forth from the furnace of his Nostrell flies A sulpherous vapour which by the envious eyes Of this foule Fiend inflam'd possest the faire And sweet complexion of th' Abused Ayre With Pestilence and having power so farre Tooke the advantage of his worset Starre Smote him with Vlcers such as once befell Th'Egyptian Wizzards Vlcers hot and fell Which like a searching Tetter uncorrected Left no part of his body unaffected From head to foote no empty place was found That could b'afflicted with another wound So noysome was the nature of his griefe That left by friends and wife that should be chiefe Assister he poore he alone remain'd Groveling in Ashes being himselfe constrain'd With pot-sheards to scrape off those rip'ned cores Which dogs disdain'd to licke from out his sores Which when his wife beheld adust and keene Her passion waxt made strong with scorn spleen Like as the Winds imprison'd in the earth And barr'd the passage to their naturall birth Grow fierce and nilling to be longer pent Break in an Earthquake shake the world and vent So brake shee forth so forth her fury brake Till now pent in with shame and thus she spake Fond Saint thine Innocence findes timely speed A foolish Saint receives a Saintly meed Is this the just mans recompence Or hath Heaven no requitall for thy painfull Faith 〈◊〉 then this What haue thy zealous Qualmes â—â—â—â—ious Fastings and thy hopefull Almes Thy private groanes and often bended knees No other end no other thankes but these 〈◊〉 man submit thee to a kinder fate 〈◊〉 to be righteous at so deare a rate 'T is Heaven not Fortune that thy weale debarres Câ—â—se Heaven then and not thy wayward flarres 'T is God that plagues thee God not knowing why Câ—â—se then that God revenge thy wrongs and dye 〈◊〉 then reply'd God loves where â—e chasâ—iz'd Thou speakest like a foole and ill adviz'd â—â—â—gh we to licke the sweet and shall we lowre If â—e be pleas'd to send a little sowre 〈◊〉 I so weake one blast or two should chill me I 'le trust my Maker though my Maker kill me When these sad tidings fill'd those itching eares Of Earths black babling daughter she that heares And vents alike both Truth and Forgeries And utters often cheaper then she buyes She spred the pinions of her nimble wings Advanc'â— her Trumpet and away she springs And fils the whispering Ayre which soone possest The spacious borders of th'enquiring East Vpon the summon of such solemne Newes Whose truth malignant Fame could not abuse His wofull friends came to him to the end To comfort and bewaile their wretched friend But when they came farre off they did not know Whether it were the selfe same friend or no Brim-fill'd with briny woe they wept and tore â—â—express their grief the garments that they wore Seven dayes and nights they sate upon the ground But spake not for his sorrowes did abound Medit. 5. SAy is not Satan justly stiled than A Tempter and an enemy to Man What could he more His wish would not extend To death lest his assaults with death should end Then what he did what could he further doe His Hand hath seiz'd both goods and body too The hopefull Issue of a holy straine In such a dearth of holinesse is slaine What hath the Lazar left him but his griefe And what might best been spar'd his foolish wife Cold mischief bin more hard though more in kind To nip the flowers and leave the weeds behind Woman was made a Helper by Creation A Helper not alone for Propagation Or fond Delight but sweet Society Which Man alone should want and to supply Comforts to him for whom her Sex was made That each may ioy in eithers needfull ayde But fairest Angels had the foulest fall And best things once abus'd prove worst of all Else had not Satan beene so foule a Fiend Else had not Woman prov'd so false a Friend Ev'n as the treachrous Fowler to entice His silly winged Prey doth first devise To make a Bird his stale at whose false call Others may chance into the selfe-same thrall Even so that crafty snarer of Mankind Finding mans righteous Palate not enclin'd To taste the sweetnesse of his gilded baites Makes a collaterall Suâ—e and slily waites Vpon the weakenesse of some bosome friend From whose enticement he expects his end Ah righteous Iob what crosse was left unknowne What griefe may be describ'd but was thine owne Is this a just mans case What doth befall To one man may as well betide to all The worst I 'le looke for that I can project If better come 't is more then I expect If otherwise I 'm arm'd with Preparation No sorrow's sudden to an expectation Lord to thy Wisedome I submit my Will I will be thankfull send me good or ill If good my present State will passe the sweeter If ill my Crowne of glory shall be greater THE ARGVMENT Orewhelm'd with griefe Iob breaketh forth Into impatience Bans his birth Professes that his heart did doubt And feare what since hath fallen out Sect. 6. WOrn bare with griefe the patient Iob betrai'd His seven-daies silence curst his day said O that my Day of birth had never bin Nâ—â— yet the Night which I was brought forth in Be it not numbred for a Day let Light Not make a difference 'twixt it and Night Let gloomy Shades then Death more sable passe Vpon it to declare how fatall 't was Let Clouds ore-cast it and as hatefull make it As lifes to him whom Tortures bid forsake it From her next day let that blacke Night be cut Nor in the reckning of the Months be put Let Desolation fill it all night long In it be never heard a Bridall song Let all sad Mourners that doe curse the light When light 's drawne in begin to curse this night Her evening Twilight let foule darknesse staine And may her midnight expect light in vaine Nor let her infanâ— Day but newly borne Suffer't to see the Eye-lids of the morne Because my Mothers Wombe it would not clâ—ze Which gave me passage to endure these Woes Why dyed I not in my Conception rather Or why was not my Birth and death together Why did the Midwife take me on her knees Why did I sucke to feele such griefes as these Then had this body never beene opprest I had injoy'd th' eternall sleepe of rest With Kings and mighty Monarchs that lie crown'd With stately Monuments poore I had found A place of Rest had borne as great a sway Had beene as happy and as rich as they Why was not I as an abortive birth The â—e're had knowne the horrors of the earth The silent
and the painfull prize Of their sweet labour in the hollow Chest Of the dead Lyon whose unbowell'd brest Became their plenteous storehouse where they laid The blest encrease of their laborious Trade The fleshly Hive was fill'd with curious Combes Within whose dainty waxe-divided roomes Were shops of honey whose delicious taste Did sweetly recompence th'adjourned haste Of lingring Samson who does now repay The time he borrow'd from his better way And with renewed speed and pleasure flies Where all his soule-delighting treasure lies He goes to Timnah where his heart doth finde A greater sweetnesse than he left behinde His hasty hands invites her gladder eyes To see and lips to taste that obvious prize His interrupted stay had lately tooke And as shee tasted his fixt eyes would looke Vpon her varnisht lips and there discover A sweeter sweetnesse to content a Lover And now the busie Virgins are preparing Their costly Iewels for the next dayes wearing Each lappe is sill'd with Flowers to compose The nuptiall Girland for the Brides faire browes The costâ—neglecting Cookes have now encreast Their pastry dainties to adorne the feast Each willing hand is labring to provide The needfull ornaments to deck the Bride But now the crafty Philistins for feare Lest Samsons strength which startled every eare With dread and wâ—nder under that pretence Should gaine the meanes to offer violence And through the shew of nuptiall devotion Should take advantages to breed commotion Or lest his popular power by coaction Or faire entreats may gather to his faction Some loose and discontented men of theirs And so betray them to supected feares They therefore to prevent ensuing harmes Gave strict command that thirty men of armes Vnder the maâ—ke of Bridemen should attend Vntill the nuptiall ceremonies end Meditat. 9. HOw high unutterable how profound Whose depth the line of knowledge cannot sound Are the deerces of the Eternall God! How secret are his wayes and how untrod By mans conceipt so deeply charg'd with doubt How are his Counsels past our finding out O how unscrutable are his designes How deepe and how unsearchable are the Mines Of his abundant Wisdome how obscure And his eternall Iudgements and how sure Lists he to strike the very Stones shall flie From their unmov'd Foundations and destroy Lists he to punish Things that have no sense Shall vindicate his Quarrell on th' Offence Lists he to send a plague The winters heate And summers damp shall make his will compleate Lists he to send the Sword Occasion brings New Iealousies betwixt the hearts of Kings Wills he a famine Heaven shall turne to brasse And earth to Iron till it come to passe Both stocks and stones and plants and beasts fulfil The secret Counsell of his sacred will Man onely wretched Man is disagreeing To doe that thing for which he had his being Samson must downe to Timnah in the way Must meet a Lyon whom his hands must slay The Lyons putrid Carkas must enclose A swarme of Bees and from the Bees arose A Riddle and that Riddle must be read And by the reading Choller must be bred And that must bring to passe Gods just designes Vpon the death of the false Philistines Behold the progresse and the royall Gests Of Heavens high vengeance how it never rests Till by appointed courses it fulfill The secret pleasure of his sacred will Great Savior of the world Thou Lambe of Sion That hides our sinnes That art the wounded Lyon O in thy dying body we have found A world of hony whence we may propound Such sacred Riddles as shall underneath Our feet subdue the power of Hell and Death Such Mysteries as none but he that plough'd With thy sweet Hayfer's able to uncloud Such sacred Mysteries whose eternall praise Shall make both Angels and Archangels raise Their louder voyces and in triumph sing All Glory and Honour to our highest King And to the Lambe that sits upon the throne Worthy of power and praise is he alone Whose glory hath advanc'd our key of mirth Glory to God on high and peace on Earth THE ARGVMENT The Bridegroome at his nuptiall Feast to the Philistians doth propound A Riddle which they all addrest themselves in counsell to expound Sect. 10. NOw when the glory of the next dayes light Had chas'd the shadowes of the tedious night 〈◊〉 coupling Hymen with his nuptiall bands 〈◊〉 gâ—lden Fetters had conjoyn'd their hands 〈◊〉 jolly welcome had to every Guest â—â—pos'd the bounty of the mariage Feast 〈◊〉 now appeased stomacks did enlarge 〈◊〉 captive tongues with power to discharge 〈◊〉 quit their Table-duty and disburse 〈◊〉 store of enterchangeable discourse 〈◊〉 â—â—genious Bridegroome turn'd his rolling eyes 〈◊〉 his guard of Bridemen and applies â—â—â—peech to them And whil'st that every man 〈◊〉 his attentive eare he thus began My tâ—ngue's in labour and my thoughts abound 〈◊〉 a doubtfull Riddle to propound 〈◊〉 if your joyned wisdomes can discover 〈◊〉 our seven dayes feasting be past over 〈◊〉 thirty Sheets and thirty new supplies â—â—â—â—â—â—ment shall be your deserved prize 〈◊〉 be seven dayes feast shall be dissolv'd 〈◊〉 darkned Riddle be resolv'd Ye shall be all engaged to resigne The like to me the vict'rie being mine So said the Bridemen whose exchanged eyes Found secret hopes of conquest thus replies Propound thy Riddle Let thy tongue dispatch Her cloudy errand We accept the match With that the hopefull Challenger convai'd His Riddle to their hearkning eares and said The Riddle Our food in plenty doth proceed from him that us'd to eate And he whose custome was to feed does now afford as meate A thing that I did lately meet as I did passe along Afforded me a dainty sweet yet was both sharpe and strong The doubtful Riddle being thus propounded They muse the more they mus'd the more coÌ„founded One rounds his whispring neighbour in the eare Whose lab'ring lips deny him leave to heare Another trusting rather to his owne Conceit sits musing by himselfe alone Here two are closely whispring till a third Comes in nor to the purpose speakes a word There sits two more and they cannot agree How rich the clothes how fine the Sheets must be Yonder stands one that musing smiles no doubt But he is neere it if not found it out To whom another rudely rushes in And puts him quite beside his thought agin 〈◊〉 three are Whispring and a fourths intrusion Spoiles all and puts them all into confusion â—â—re sits another in a Chaire so deepe 〈◊〉 thought that he is nodding fast asleepe The more their busie fancie doe endever The more they erre Now farther off than ever 〈◊〉 when their wits spur'd on with sharpe desire Had lost their breath and now began to tire They ceas'd to tempt conceit beyond her strength And weary of their thoughts their thoughts at length Present a new exploit Craft must supply Defects of wit Their hopes must now rely Vpon the frailty of the tender Bride She must be mov'd Perswasions may attaine If not
Vntill your land be turn'd a Golgotha And if my actions prove my words untrue Let Samson die and be accurs'd as you Medit. 14. GOd is the God of peace And if my brother Strike me on one cheeke must I turn the other God is the God of mercy And his childe Must be as he his Mercifull and milde God is the God of Love But sinner know His love abus'd hee 's God of vengeance too Is God the God of vengeance And may none Revenge his private wrongs but he alone What meanes this franticke Nazarite to take Gods office from his hand and thus to make His wrongs amends Who warranted his breath To threaten ruine and to thunder death Curious Inquisitor when God shall strike By thy stout arme thy arme may doe the like His Patent gives him power to create A deputie to whom he doth collate Assistant power in sufficient measure To exercise the office of his pleasure A lawfull Prince is Gods Lieutenant here As great a Maiesty as flesh can beare He is endued with all In his bright eye Cloath'd in the flames of Majesty doth lie Both life and death into his royall heart Heaven doth inspire and secretly impart The treasure of his Lawes Into his hand He thrusts his sword of Iustice and Command He is Gods Champion where his voice bids kill He must not feare t' imbrew his hands and spill Abundant bloud Who gives him power to doe Will finde him guiltlesse and assist him too O but let flesh and bloud take heed that none Pretend Gods quarrell to revenge his owne Malice and base Revenge must step aside When heavens uprighter Battels must be tride Where carnall glory or ambitious thurst Of simple conquest or revenge does burst Vpon a neighbouring Kingdome there to thrust Into anothers Crowne the warre 's not just 'T is but a private quarrell and bereft Of lawfull grounds 'T is but a Princely theft But where the ground 's Religion to defend Abused faith let Princes there contend With dauntles courage May their acts be glorious Let them goe prosperous and returne victorious What if the grounds be mixt Feare not to goe Were not the grounds of Sampsons Combate so Goe then with double courage and renowne When God shall mixe thy quarrels with his owne 'T is a brave conflict and a glorious Fray Where God and Princes shall divide the Prey THE ARGVMENT He burnes their standing corne makes void Their Land The Philistines enquire The cause of all their evill destroy'd The Timnite and his house with fire Sect. 15. AS â—agefull Samsons threatning language ceast His resolution of revenge increast Vengeance was in his thoughts and his desire Wanted no fuell to maintaine her fire Passion grew hot and furious whose delay Of execution was but taking day For greater payment His revengefull heart Boild in his brest whilst Fury did impart Her readie counsels whose imperious breath Could whisper nothing under bloud and death Revenge was studious quickned his conceit And sâ—rew'd her Engins to the very height At length when time had rip'ned his desires And puffing rage had blowne his secret fires To open flame now ready for confusion He thus began t' attempt his first conclusion The patient Angler first provides his baite Before his hopes can teach him to awaite Th' enjoyment of his long expected prey Revengefull Samson ere he can appay His wrongs with timely vengeance must intend To gaine the Instruments to worke his end He plants his Engines hides his snares about Pitches his Toiles findes new devices out To tangle wilie Foxes In few dayes That land had store his studious hand betrayes A leash of hundreds which he thus imploye As Agents in his rashfull enterprize With tough and force-enduring thongs of Leth He joynes and couples taile and taile together And every thong bound in a Brand of fire So made by Art that motion would inspire Continuall flames and as the motion ceast The thriftie blaze would then retire and rest In the close brand untill a second strife Gave it new motion and that motion life Soone as these coupled Messengers receiv'd Their fiercy Errand though they were bereiv'd Of power to make great hast they made good speed Their thoughts were diffring though their tailes agreed T' one drags and draws to th' East the other West One fit they runne another while they rest T' one skulks and snarles the t' other tugges and hales At length both flee with fire in their tailes And in the top and height of all their speed T' one stops before the other bee agreed The other pulls and dragges his fellow backe Whilst both their tailes were tortur'd on the racke At last both weary of their warme Embassage Their better ease discride a fairer passage And time hath taught their wiser thoughts to joyne More close and travell in a straiter linâ— Into the open Champion they divide Their straggling paces where the ploughmans pride Found a faire object in his rip'ned Corne Whereof some part was reapt some stood unshorne Sometimes the fiery travellers would seeke Protection beneath a swelling Reeke But soone that harbour grew too hot for stay Affording onely light to runne away Sometimes the full-ear'd standingâ—wheat must cover And hide their flames and there the flames would hover About their eares and send them to enquire A cooler place but there the flaming fire Would scorch their hides send theÌ„ sindg'd away Thus doubtfull where to goe or where to stay They range about flee forward then retire Now here now there wher ere they come they fire Nothing was left that was not lost and burn'd And now that fruitfull land of Iewry's turn'd A heape of Ashes That faire land while ere Which fild all hearts with joy and every eare With newes of plenty and of blest encrease The joyfull issue of a happy peace See how it lies in her owne ruines void Of all her happinesse disguis'd destroyd With that the Philistines whose sad reliefe And comfort 's deeply buried in their griefe Began to question they did all partake In th'irrecoverable losse and spake What cursed brand of Hell What more than Devill What envious Miscreant hath done this evill Whereto one sadly standing by replide It was that cursed Samson Whose faire Bride Was lately ravisht from his absent brest By her false father who before the feast Of nuptiall was a moâ—th expir'd and done By second marriage own'd another Sonne For which this Samson heav'd from off the henge Of his lost reason studied this revenge That Timnits falshood wrought this desolâ—tion Samson the Actor was but he th' occasion With that they all consulted to proceed In height of Iustice to revenge this deed Samson whose hand was the immediat cause Of this foule act is stronger than their lawes Him they referre to time For his proud hand May bring a second ruine to their land The cursed Timnite he that did divide The lawfull Bridgroome from his lawfull Bride And mov'd the
feares 'T is well But they that doe Attempt to ruine me will ransacke you First you shall firmely engage your plighted trâ—th By the acceptance of a sacred â—ath That when I shall be pris'ner to your bands I may not suffer violence by your hands With that they drawing nearer to him laid Their hands beneath his brawny thigh and said Then let the God of Iacob cease to blesse The tribe of Iudah with a faire successe In ought they put their cursed hand unto And raze their seed If we attempt to doe Bound Samson violence And if this curse Be not sufficient heaven contrive a worse With that the willing prisoner joyn'd his hands To he subjected to their stronger bands With treble twisted cords that never tried The twitch of strength their busie fingers tied His sinewy wrists which being often wound About his beating pulse they brought him bound To the forefront of the Philistian band And left him captive in their cursed hand Meditat. 17. O What a pearle is hidden in this field Whose orient luster and perfections yeeld So great a treasure that the Easterne Kings With all the wealth their colder Climate brings Nere saw the like It is a pearle whose glory Is the diviner subject of a story Pend by an Angels quill not understood By the too dull conceit of flesh and bloud Vnkinde Iudeans what have you presented Before your eyes O what have you attented He that was borne on purpose to release His life for yours to bring your Nation peace To turne your mournings into joyfull Songs To fight your Battells to revenge your wrongs Even him alas your cursed hands have made This day your prisoner Him have you betraid To death O he whose snowy arme had power To crush you all to nothing and to shower Downe strokes like thunderbolts whose blasting breath Might in a moment puft you all to death And made ye fall before his frowning Brow See how he goes away betraid by you Thou great Redeemer of the world whose bloud Hath power to save more worlds than Noahs floud Destroyed bodies thou O thou that art The Samson of our soules How can the heart Of man give thankes enough that does not know How much his death-redeemed soule does owe To thy deare merits We can apprehend No more than flesh and bloud does recommend To our confined thoughts Alas we can Conceive thy love but as the love of man We cannot tell the horror of that paine Thou bought us from nor can our hearts attaine Those joyes that thou hast purchas'd in our name Nor yet the price thou paidst our thoughts are laÌ„e And craz'd Alas things mortall have no might No meanes to comprehend an Infinite We can behold thee cradled in a Manger In a poore Stable We can see the danger The Tetrarch's fury made thee subject to We can conceive thy poverty We know Thy blessed hands that might bin freed were bouÌ„d We know alas thy bleeding browes were crown'd With pricking thorne Thy body torne with whips Thy palmes impeirc'd with ragged nailes Thy lips Saluted with a Traitors kisse Thy browes Sweating forth bloud Thy oft repeated blowes Thy fastning to the crosse Thy shamefull death These outward tortures all come underneath Our dull conceits But what thy blessed soule That bore the burden of our guilt and Scroule Of all our sinnes and horrid paines of Hell O what that soule endur'd what soule can tell THE ARGVMENT He breakes their bands And with a bone A thousand Philistians he slue Hee thirsted fainted made his moane To Heaven He drinkes his spirits renew Sect. 18. THus when the glad Philistians had obtain'd The summe of all their hopes they entertain'd The welcome pris'ner with a greater noise Of triumph than the greatnesse of their joyes Required Some with sudden death would greet The new come Guest whilst others more discreet With lingring paines and tortures more exact Would force him to discover in the Fact Who his Abettors were others gainsaid That course for feare a rescue may be made â—ome cry ' T is fittest that th' Offender bleed 〈◊〉 where his cursed hands had done the deed Others cryed No where Fortune hath consign'd him Wee 'le kill him Best to kill him where we finde him Thus variously they spent their doubtfull breath At last they all agreed on sudden death There 's no contention now but onely who Shall strike the first or give the speeding blow Have ye beheld a single thred of flax Touch'd by the fire how the fire crackes With ease and parts the slender twine in sunder Even so as the first arme began to thunder Vpon the Prisners life he burst the bands From his strong wrists freed his loosned hands He stoop'd from off the bloud-expecting grasse He snatcht the crooked jaw-bone of an Asse Wherewith his fury dealt such downe-right blowes So oft redoubled that it overthrowes Man after man And being ring'd about With the distracted and amazed rout Of rude Philistians turn'd his body round And in a circle dings them to the ground Each blow had proofe for where the jaw-bone mist The furious Champion wounded with his fist Betwixt them both his fury did uncase A thousand soules which in that fatall place Had left their ruin'd carkeises to feast The flesh-devouring fowle and rav'nous beast With that the Conquerour that now had fed And surfeited his eye upon the dead His hand had slaine sate downe and having flung His purple weapon by triumpht and sung SAmson rejoyce Be fill'd with mirth Let all Iudea know And tell the Princes of the earth How strong an arme hast thou How has thy dead enricht the land And purpled ore the grasse That hadst no weapon in thy hand But the jaw-bone of an Asse How does thy strength and high renowne The glory of men surpasse Thine arme has strucke a thousand downe With the jaw-bone of an Asse Let Samsons glorious name endure Till Time shall render One Whose greater glory shall obscure The glory thou hast wone His song being ended rising from the place Whereon he lay he turn'd his ruthlesse face Vpon those heapes his direfull hand had made And op'ning of his thirsty lips he said Great God of conquest thou by whose command The heart received courage and this hand Strength to revenge thy quarrels and fulfill The secret motion of thy sacred will That shall thy Champion perish now with thirst Thou knowst I have done nothing but what first Was warranted by thy command 'T was thou That gave my spirit boldnesse and my brow A resolution 'T is mine arme did doe No more than what thou didst enjoyne me to And shall I die for thirst O thou that sav'd Me from the Lyons rage that would have rav'd Vpon my life by whom I have subdu'd Thy cursed enemies and have imbru'd My heaven-commanded hands in a spring-tyde Of guilty bloud Lord shall I be denyde A draught of cooling water to allay The tyranny of my thirst I that this day Have
the God of Love's as blinde as hee 〈◊〉 that they brought poore Samson to the Hall 〈◊〉 as he past he gropes to finde the wall 〈◊〉 paâ—â— was slow His feet were lifted high 〈◊〉 tongue would taunt him Every scornfull eye 〈◊〉 filld with laughter Some would cry aloud 〈◊〉 in state His Lordship is growne proud 〈◊〉 bid his honour â—asle whilst others cast â—prochfull termes upon him as he past 〈◊〉 would salute him fairely and embrace 〈◊〉 wounded sides then spit upon his face 〈◊〉 would cry For shame for heare t' abuse 〈◊〉 high and great redeemer of the Iewes 〈◊〉 gibe and flout him with their taunts quip◠〈◊〉 others flurt him on the starting lips 〈◊〉 that poore Samson whose abundant griefe 〈…〉 hopes of comfort or reliefe Resolv'd for patience Turning round he made Some shift to feele his Keeper out and said Good Sir my painfull labour in the Mill Hath made me bold although against my will To crave some little rest If you will please To let the Pillour but afford some ease To my worne limmes your mercy should relieve A soule that has no more but thanks to give The keeper yeelded Now the Hall was filld With Princes and their People that beheld Abused Samson whilst the Roofe retain'd A leash of thousands more whose eyes were chainâ—â— To this sad Object with a full delight To see this flesh-and-blood-relenting sight With that the pris'ner turnd himselfe and pray'd So soft that none but heaven could heare and saidâ— My God my God Although my sinnes doe cry For greater vengeance yet thy gratious eye Is full of mercy O remember now The gentle promise and that sacred vow Thou mad'st to faithfull Abram and his seed O heare my wounded soule that has lesse need Of life then mercy Let thy tender eare Make good thy plenteous promise now and heare See how thy cursed enemies prevaile Above my strength Behold how poore and fraile My native power is and wanting thee What is there Oh what is there Lord in me Nor is it I that suffer My desert May challenge greater vengeance if thou wert â—xtreme to punish Lord the wrong is thine The punishment is just and onely mine I am thy Champion Lord It is not me They strike at Through my sides they thrust at thee 〈◊〉 thy Glory 't is their Malice lies 〈◊〉 at that when they put out these eyes 〈◊〉 their blood-bâ—dabl'd hands would flie 〈…〉 thou but cloth'd in flesh as I 〈◊〉 thy wrongs great God O let thy hand 〈◊〉 thy suffring honour and this land 〈◊〉 â—e thy power Renew my wasted strength 〈…〉 fight thy bâ—ttels and at length 〈◊〉 thy glory that my hands may do 〈◊〉 faithfull service they were borne unto 〈…〉 thy power that I may restore 〈◊〉 and I will never urge thee more 〈◊〉 having ended both his armes he laid 〈◊〉 the pillours of the Hall and said 〈◊〉 with the Philistines I resigne my breath 〈◊〉 let my God finde Glory in my death 〈◊〉 having spoke his yeelding body strain'd 〈◊〉 those Marble pillours that sustain'd 〈◊〉 pondrous Roofe They cracket and with their fall 〈◊〉 fell the Battlements and Roofe and all 〈◊〉 with their ruines slaughter'd at a blow 〈◊〉 whole Assembly They that were below 〈◊〉 their sudden deaths from those that fell 〈◊〉 off the top whilst none was left to tell 〈◊〉 horrid shreckes that filld the spatious Hall 〈◊〉 ruines were impartiall and slew all 〈◊〉 fell and with an unexpected blow 〈◊〉 every one his death and buriall too Thus di'd our Samson whose brave death has won 〈◊〉 honour then his honourd life had done 〈◊〉 di'd our Conquerour whose latest breath 〈◊〉 crown'd with Conquest triumph'd over death 〈◊〉 di'd our Sampson whose last drop of blood â—deem'd heavn's glory and his Kingdome 's good Thus di'd heavens Champion and the earths bright Glory The heavenly subject of this sacred Story And thus th' impartiall hand of death that gathers All to the Grave repos'd him with his fathers Whose name shall flourish and be still in prime In spight of ruine or the teeth of Time Whose fame shal last till heaven shal please to free This Earth from Sinne and Time shall cease to be Medita 23. WAges of sinne is death The day must come Wherin the equall hand of death must sum The severall Items of mans fading glory Into the easie totall of one Story The browes that sweat for Kingdomes and renown To glorifie their Temples with a Crowne At length grow cold and leave their honourd name To flourish in th' uncertaine blast of Fame This is the heighth that glorious Mortalls can Attaine This is the highest pitch of Man The quilted Quarters of the Earths great Ball Whose unconfined limits were too small For his extreame Ambition to deserve Six foote of length and three of bredth must serve This is the highest pitch that Man can flie And after all his Triumph he must die Lives he in Wealth Does well deserved store Limit his wish that he can wish no more And does the fairest bounty of encrease Crown him with plenty and his dayes with peaceâ— It is a right hand blessing But supply Of wealth cannot secure him He must die Lives he in Pleasure Does perpetuall mirth 〈◊〉 him a little Heaven upon his earth â—eets he no sullen care no sudden losse 〈◊〉 coole his joyes Breathes hee without a crosse â—ants he no pleasure that his wanton eye 〈◊〉 crave or hope from fortune He must dye 〈◊〉 he in Honour Hath his faire desart â—â—tain'd the freedome of his Princes heart 〈◊〉 may his more familiar hands disburse 〈◊〉 liberall favors from the royall purse 〈◊〉 his Honour cannot soare too high 〈◊〉 palefac'd death to follow He must dye Lives he a Conqu'rour And doth heaven blesse 〈◊〉 heart with spirit that spirit with successe Successe with Glory Glory with a name To live with the Eternitie of Fame The progresse of his lasting fame may vye With time But yet the Conquerour must dye Great and good God Thou Lord of life and deth 〈◊〉 whom the Creature hath his being breath Teach me to underprize this life and I Shall finde my losse the easier when I dye So raise my feeble thoughts and dull desire That when these vaine and weary dayes expire I may discard my flesh with joy and quit My better part of this false earth and it Of some more sinne and for this transitory And tedious life enjoy a life of Glory The end SIONS SONETS Sung By SOLOMON the KING And PERIPHRAS'D By Fra. Quarles LONDON Printed by MILES FLESHER 1632. To the READERS REaders now you have them May the end of my paines be the beginâ—ing of your pleasures Excuse me for â—haring so high else give me leave to excuse my selfe Indeed I flew with Eagles feathers otherwise I had not flowne or falne It is the Song of Songs There present you with The Author King SOLOMON the wisest of Kings The matter mysticall the divinest of subjects
And froÌ„ their ragged wounds they suck forth blood The father dies and leaves his pined Coarse T' inrich his Heire with meat The hungry Nurse Broyles her starv'd suckling on the hastie coales Devoures one halfe and hides the rest in holes O Tyrant Famine that compell'st the Mother To kill one hungry Childe to feed another ELEG 11. LAment O sad Ierusalem lament O weepe if all thy teares be yet unspent Weepe wasted Iudâ—h let no drop be kept Vnshed let not one teare be left unwept For angry heaven hath nothing left undone To bring thy ruines to perfection No curse no plague the fierce Almighty hath Kept backe to summe the totall of his wrath Thy Citie burnes thy Sion is dispoyld Thy Wives are ravisht and thy Maides defil'd Famine at home the Sword abroad destroyes thee Thou cry'st to heav'n heav'n his â—are denies thee ELEG 12. MAy thy dull senses O unhappy Nation Possest with nothing now but desolation Collect their scatter'd forces and behold Thy novell fortunes ballanc'd with the old Couldst thou ô could thy prosp'rous heart coÌ„ceive That mortall powre or art of State could reive Thy ' illustrious Empire of her sacred glory And make her ruines the Threnâ—dian story Of these sad times and ages yet to be Envie could pine but never hope to see Thy buildings crusht and all that glory ended Which Man so fortifyde and Heav'n defended ELEG 13. NE're had the splendor of thy bright renowne Beene thus extinguisht ludah Thy fast Crowne Had ne're beene spurn'd from thy Imperiall brow Plenty had nurs'd thy soule thy peacefull plough Had fill'd thy fruitfull Quarters with encrease Hadst thou but knowne thy selfe and loved peace But thou hast broke that sacred truce concluded Betwixt thy God and thee vainly deluded Thy selfe with thine own strength with deadly feud Thy furious Priests and Prophets have pursude The mourning Saints of Sion and did sâ—ay All such as were more just more pure then they ELEG 14. O How the Priests of Sion whose pure light Should shine to such as grope in Errors night And blaze like Lampâ— before the darkned eye Of Ignorance to raise up those that lie In dull despaire and guide those feet that strey Ay me How blinde how darke how dull are they Fierce rage fury drives them through the street And like to mad men stabbe at all they meet They weare the purple Livery of Death And live themselves by drawing others breath Say wasted Sion could Revenge behold So foule an acted Scene as this and hold ELEG 15. PRophets and sacred Priests whose tongues whilere Did often whisper in th'Eternalls eare Disclos'd his Oracles found ready passage Twixt God and Man to carry heavens Embassage Are now the subjects of deserved scorne Of God forsaken and of man forlorne Accursed Gentiles are asham'd to know What Sions Priests are not asham'd to doe They see and blush and blushing flee away Fearing to touch things so defil'd as they They hate the filth of their abomination And chace them forth from their new conquer'd nation ELEG 16. QVite banisht from the joyes of earth and smiles Of heaven and deeply buried in her spoiles Poore Iudah lies unpitied disrespected Exil'd the World of God of Man rejected Like blasted eares among the fruitfull wheat She roames disperst and hath no certaine seat Her servile neck 's subjected to the yoake Of bondage open to th' impartiall stroake Of conquering Gentiles whose afflicting hand Smites every nooke of her disguised Land Of Youth respectlesse nor regarding Yeeres Nor Sex nor Tribe like scourging Prince Peers ELEG 17. REnt and deposed from Imperiall state â—y heavens high hand on heaven we must await To him that struck our sorrowes must appeale Where heaven hath smitâ— no hand of man can heale In vaine our wounds expected mans reliefe For disappointed hopes renew a griefe Aegypt opprest us in our fathers loynes What hope 's in Aegypt Nay if Aegypt joynes Her force with Iudah our united powres Could nere prevaile 'gainst such a foe as our's Aegypt that once did feele heavens scourge for grieving His flock would now refinde it for reliving ELEG 18. SO the quick-sented Beagles in a view O're hill and dale the fleeing Chase pursue As swift-foot Death and Ruine follow me That flees afraid yet knowes not where to flee Flee to the fields There with the sword I meet And like a Watch Death stands in every street No covert hides from death no Shade no Cells So darke wherein not Death and Horror dwells Our dayes are numbred and our number 's done The empty Houre-glasse of our glorie 's run Our sins are summ'd and so extreame 's the score That heauen could not doe lesse nor hell do more ELEG 19. TO what a downfall are our fortunes come Subjected to the suffrance of a doome Whose lingring torments Hell could not conspire More sharp than which hell needs no other fire How nimble are our Foemen to betray Our soules Eagles are not so swift as they Where shall we flee Or where shall sorrow finde A place for harbour Ah what prosp'rous winde Will lend a gale whose bounty ne're shall cease Till we be landed on the I le of peace My foes more fierce than empty Lions are For hungry Lions woo'd with teares will spare ELEG 20. VSurping Gentiles rudely have engrost Into their hands those fortunes we have lost Devoure the fruits that purer hands did plant Are plump and pampred with that bread we want And what is worse than death a Tyrant treads Vpon our Throne Pagans adorne their heads With our lost crowns their powers have dis-jointed The Members of our State and Heavens Anointed Their hands have crusht ravisht from his throne And made a Slave for Slaves to tread upon Needs must that flock be scattred and accurst where wolves have dar'd to seize the Shepherd first ELEG 21. WAxe fat with laughing Edom with glad eies Behold the fulnesse of our miseries Triumph thou Type of Antichrist and feed Thy soule with joy to see thy brothers â—eed Ruin'd and rent and rooted from the earth Make haste and solace thee with early mirth But there 's a time shall teachâ—thee how to weepe As many teares as I thy lips as deepe Shall drinke in sorrowes Cup as mine have done Till then cheere up thy spirits and laugh on Offended Iustice often strikes by turnes Edom â—eware for thy next neighbour burnes ELEG 22. YE drooping sonnes of Sion O arise And shut the flood-gates of your flowing eyes Surcease your sorrowes and your joyes attend For heaven hath spoke it and your griefes â—â—al end Beleeve it Sion seeke no curious signe And wait heav'ns pleasure as heav'n waited thine And thou triumphing Edâ—m that dost lye In beds of Roses thou whose prosp'rous eye Did smile to see the Gates of Sion fall Shalt be subjected to the selfe-fame thrall Sion that weepes shall smile and Edoms eye That smiles so fast as fast shall shortly cry The Prophet Ieremie his