date I for my last and glorious change shall waite For He who was dead is alive and shall To me be Alpha and Omega All. The Trophee CANTO 7o. CHrist had not come from heav'n to earth but that He might our dying soules re-animat He had not liv'd on earth so long to try Cares watches griefes reproaches misery Had he not meant to write us an example In patience upon their necks to trample Nor had he took our flesh if not to die That by his suff'rings he might satisfie The wrath of God due unto mans offence And reconcile that sin-bred difference Nor had he dy'd were 't not to rise again And reunite us to our Soveraigne Nor did he rise but that he might ascend And so bring our Redemptions to an end Thus was he born thus did he live and thus He hath both dy'd and rose againe for us That our new birth new life and new death may By him be turn'd to an eternall day Now if that any ask who shall perswade VVeake man that he such mighty power had The trembling earth the darkned sunne the grave The quickned dead the rent vaile and that slave VVhich in earths centers dwels can all declare The Virgins sonne and eke th' Almighties heire True God and Man earths Monarch heav'ns great King Did those stupendious works t' effect forth bring But if sublunar things subject to errour Can neither work our joy nor strike with terrour Our hardned hearts let glorious Angels then Serve to extirpate misbeliefe from men For they did by their presence shake those fooles VVho by their spears and staves and murth'ring tools Sought to detaine the Lord of Life i' th' grave Let all such guardians such reward still have Then to some weaker women whose true care And love to life had quickly brought them there They furnish matter of true consolation Declaring his true life whose death and passion Had but of late their soule so pierc'd with woe That naturall comfort could not cure their blow Such as our conscience is or good or bad Accordingly we are rejoyc'd or sad When God to us his countenance doth show Or in a cheerfull smile or frowning aw The righteous Man is like the Lyon bold The wicked shrink for feare within their hold And one day when their joyes away shall fly Then shall they shrink and feare eternally One woman there was of a speciall note The Magdalen of late known by her spot But now by penitentiall tears made clean She greater grace and favour doth obtain For he whodwelleth in the heav'ns doth weigh The hearts of men in scales of Veritie And looks not on our outward carnall things But on that treasure which the heart forth brings To this poore woman then they first doe talk And with her in the way of comfort walk That she who sometime was a sinner might To after-sinners shew the wondrous hight The depth the length and breadth of mercy that Unto the penitent's accumulat For God doth not take heed to what we were But unto what we by adoption are For still his mercies supr'abound and more Where sinnes abundant plenty dwelt before If he can see our tears our cheeks distaine And bubble up from true repentance vaine Some eight dayes hence this Nymph began to weep And make her tears bedew her Masters feet Her eyes as yet have not shut up their sluces So deep 's the memoyr of her youths abuses And eke so fresh the relish of his smart Who spent his blood to purge her sinfull heart That she cannot her throbbing sighs restrain Nor from her restlesse seas of teares refraine But when sh'ath weep'd enough she still weeps more And ' gainst her sorrowes cannot shut the doore VVhil'st thus she weeps she turnes unto her stay And bowing down beholds where Jesus lay And loe two Angels there doe sit the one VVhere Jesus head did lye and rest anon Another she espies there where his feet Had their impression in the hard rock set They see the woman weep and thus enquire VVoman why weep'st thou what dost thou desire She answers Sure I weep not without cause For here of late in deaths devouring jawes My Lord did lye but now alas he 's gone And none can tell me whither no not one They thus reply what foole art thou to seek The living ' mongst the dead did he not speak And preach to you last day in Galile The sonne of man must suffer and third day Rise up again he is not here goe goe Tell his Disciples that he 's rise But loe VVhil'st thus they parley Jesus comes and still Rebukes her for her mis-informed will VVoman saith he woman what dost thou mean VVhat wilt thou never from thy teares abstain She takes him for the Gardner and saith Sir If you have took him hence pray let me heare VVhere you have layd him and be sure from thence I will re-bring him at what-ere expence To those fond words my Saviour saith But Mary She answers him Rabboni Without tary Falls down before his feet to kisse them but He to that fond affection yeeldeth not O doe not touch me Mary saith he for I am not yet ascended but what 's more Expedient for the world goe quickly tell My weak Disciples that the gates of hell Which gap'd against me now have no more pow'r To hedge me in for I have broke their door And to my members doe propine Lifes cup That they may dine with me I with them sup O what a masse or magazen is here Of pretious comfort by a Gardiner Breath'd to a woman O what large extent Of pardon 's sealed to a Penitenâ—â— For whil'st I see her thus so sadly weep And him comfort her ' gainst her griefs I keep In minde that Program which of late he told Blessed are they who mourn for loe behold They shall reap comfort and thrice blessed they Who ask seek knock for verily I say They shall receive and finde and enter for To such my Father doth not shut his door Next this whil'st I behold the great mistake Wherein her true affection although weake Made her believe a Gardner she had seen I doe impute it to her tear-drown'd eyn I cannot choose but make my soule to smile At this so happy fraud and sweet beguile For never man did to my weak esteem Give him a fitter stile or truer name For where did ever garden in the stower Of stormy rage produce so sweet a flower Or where did ever Gardner plant or frame So rich an imp in such a withring stem Did he not first in Paradise re-plant The promis'd Primrose of the Covenant In Baal-haman graft'd he not that Vine About the which the Saints their armes doe twine Is not he Sharons Rose the Valleyes Lilly Engeddies Camphire Bethleems Daffadilly Gethsemans Gilly-flow'r and Golgaths Rheu And Arimathea's Turn-sol ever true It is not then a great mistake to call Him Gardner who makes those to rise and fall O glorious Gardner
tear-drown'd eye Weeps out his soules sad sorrowes but for what They neither know nor can prognosticat Is this the grave saith he where Laz'rus lyeth Is this the Tomb which his dead corps implyeth It is say they then roll away this stone Which holds him in his dusty mansion No no saith Martha now the time is past This is the fourth day since we made it fast Corruption e're now hath made him stench His putrifaction no perfume can quench What Martha saith he have not I e're now Told thee that if by faith thou shouldst subdue Thy soule thou shouldst behold the pow'r of God Change Moses serpent to an usefull rod They roll away the stone to heav'n doth he Lift up his heart his hand and weeping eye And with a loud voyce he doth thus encall His Fathers hearing O great All of all O dread Creator and ô loving Father From whom all creatures doe their essence gather I thank thee that thou now hast heard me nay I know that thou dost heare me every way But that this people may believe that thou Who in thy selfe art very truth and true Hast sent me thy right hands great strength to prove And to the sonnes of men make known thy love To thee I cry'd and yet to thee doe cry That thou wouldst their hard hearts once mollifie This said he straight on Lazarus doth call Come forth come forth stay no more there at all I have the keyes of life and death therefore To thee my quickning spirit I restore No sooner hath he spoke these words then he Who lay in death and graves captivitie Comes forth bound hand and foot with those poor ties Which laugh to scorn lifes superfluities Now loose him saith he loose him let him goe For God is Lord of life and death also O what a world of miracles doe here In coacervat troops of pow'r appeare He weeps and spends his teares this tells he 's Man His word awakes the dead God only can He makes the bound to walk and blind to see All this t' expresse his sacred Deity Yet will not loose the bonds nor move the stone Himselfe but gives to men direction To act that part that by this Riddle he May teach the sonnes of men a mysterie That he who without man did man first make Will not man but by man save or forsake Qui fecit te sine te non servat te sine te For though God works his work mirac'lously Yet t'ordinary meanes he doth man ty And now in end to shew how Christ of late The deafe and dumb did both re-consolate How for the payment of a Tributes penny A Dolphine from the deep affords him money How graciously th' Adulteresse is freed And both from sinne and shame stands purifi'd How that poor man who from the wombe was blinde By clay and spittle doth his eye-sight finde How Jairus daughter and the widdows sonne Of Naine were reviv'd how he alone Did feed five thousand with five barly loaves How dry-foot on the Seas proud waves he roaves I dare not longer undertake to tell Lest under such a weight my spirits faile Let this suffice those few which here be shown Make both his Godhead and his Manhead known The Proselyt's CANTO 5o. AS when a grave and sage Gymnosophist Minding to put his Scholler to the list Of publick dispute whence he hopes to gaine The honour of his long turmoyling paine Prescribes him first some disputable Theam To be contested in the Acadeam Which being toss'd in Dialectique manner By quircks and Sophismes of a subtill strainer Gives correspondent hopes or fears of what The publick The'ter can emarginat So Nicodemus having oft times heard Of that rich glory and that rich reward Which Christ had promis'd to all such as should By his directions be govern'd and rul'd Goes privily by night to him to try Who was the stronger Christ or th' Pharisie Master saith he I see thou art a man Come out from God for certainly none can Or speake or doe as thou hast spoke and done Without some divine inspiration Is' t so saith Christ brave Nicodemus now I needs must tell thee what thou dost not know Except a man be born again 't is sure He shall not enter in at Glories doore Be born again saith he what 's this I heare VVhat man can make this paradox appeare Can he that 's old return to 's mothers wombe And thence being born again a childe become This Maxim seemeth very strange to me It over-tops my weak capacity VVhat dost thou think this strange doth Christ then say That man must needs be born again Nay nay Unlesse a man be born again by water And by the Spirits inward hid lavacre He cannot enter in Gods kingdome for What 's born of flesh is flesh and what is more What is born of the Spirit 's likewise Spirit VVithout this birth no man can heav'n inherit The winde blows where it lists thou hear'st the sound Thereof but canst not tell where 't may be found From whence it comes or whither it doth goe So hidden are his waves who makes it blow Come come saith Necodemus tell me where Thou canst be bold this Doctrine to averre Thou speak'st to me of being born again But of a new birth I conceive no strain Thou prat'st to me of heav'ns great Kingdome but Of that Monarchick state I see no jot Make me then see a reason and a cause Of what thou speak'st else hold thy peace and pause VVell Nicodemus now of truth I see That Nature is to Grace an Enemie And what the nat'rall man thinks wisdome that Doth God as folly excommunicat And what the Lord counts wisdome that doth Nature Abhorre as voyd of her perfections feature VVhat if I should be bold but to demand Of thee this question what strong pow'r and hand Did frame thee in thy mothers womb when yet In darknesse as a Non-ens thou didst sit Whose fingers there condens'd thy bones what power Did fill thy veines with Bozra's crimson shower VVho made thy nerves and artyrs so to tie Thy bodies compact and societie Who fram'd thy braines great Chaos liver spleen Thy boyling choller or thy moyst'ning phleagm VVho made thy eyes so watchfull Centinels VVho made thy nose Judge of so various smels VVho made thy tongue to speak or eares to hear VVho made thy knees to bow or back to bear And last of all whence hadst thou that poor breath Whose presence lends thee life whose absence death Whose influence warms thee with celestiall fire And whose unmoved motion doth aspire In a poor minute to run round about Earths drossie globe and Seas green glassie spout Then in an eyes poor twinkle strives to know The treasures of the windes hail rain and snow Thence falling down doth view that woefull deep Wherein the Vessels of Gods wrath doe weep Thence scaling all the heav'ns doth scan the course Of all the Stars in their imperiall sourse Thence soaring higher
been Gods sonne no lesse For who did ever see so firm and strong Expressions of Deitie ev'n among Infirmities and weaknesse saddest strains As now burst forth in Naturesbubling vains By this just Joseph Arimathea's Lord Hath beg'd of Pilat by submissive word That he Christs body might have pow'r to take Down from the Crosse and in his grave to make Him rest who rest and peace had promised Unto all such as sought to him for ayde Pilat yeelds to it Joseph's quickly gone Through Salems streets and rich stor'd shops each one And of pure balm and myrhs elixar'd Nard A hundred weight he buyes and afterward Embalmes my Saviours body and doth binde It in a Tyrian lawn more dainty fin'd Than that which Venus putteth on the eyes Of Cupid to obscure his leacheries Then in his Garden corner with all haste In his new-digged tombe he hath it plac'd And that the body there might rest secure He puts a stone upon the Sepulture ' Mongst many passions of the soule by which Man doth his guilty minde surcharge too much Whil'st he doth wander in that desert where Nothing is reap'd in end but griefe and care That pultrone Feare for most part leads the ring Where Cruelty hath harp'd on Envies string For nothing can secure that sordid mind Where wrath and malice are in one combin'd Hence doth the High Priest and his rascall-train To Pilats hall return yet once again And under colour of a wise prevention Belch out the vomit of their foul intention This fellow say they while he liv'd did say Pull down this Temple and on the third day I will re-build it Lest therefore by night Some steal him from his grave and so affright The world with frantick tales of 's resurrection Let us walk wisely and ' gainst this infection Prepare an an tidote for by such toyes The weaker may be led to great annoyes Goe goe saith Pilus doe what ere you list Hath not his blood yet satisfi'd your thirst 'T is strange to see that death cannot put end Unto that wrath which doth on rage depend The very beasts that live by cruell pray Drink blood eat flesh but cast the bones away But ay me poor faint-hearted Muse how long Wilt thou sigh forth his obsequies whose wrong Though all the Main were turn'd to teares and ink Could not suffice to write them on her brink Weep therefore weep a space and weeping look Not like a runnall or a bubling brook Whose proudest swellings we no sooner spy But straight they are exhaust their channell 's dry But like the Ocean whose unfathom'd deep Sends forth those restlesse streames which never sleep For here thou hast the deepest deep distresse That ever heart could think or tongue expresse The sonne of God heav'ns master-peece the bright Transplendent glory of th' Almighties light Th' eternall Word which was e're time began In time for man made man nay not a man A worm a wretch a servant nay a slave To calumny contempt to crosse to grave Yet peace my Muse and let not griefe exile Thee from due comfort let a blushing smile Comfort thee rather for those wounds which stands Imprinted in his heart his feet his hands Make him although despised and disdain'd To carnall eyes where sinne and shame 's maintain'd A pretious Victime off red up for thee To whom of due belong'd the cursed tree Yea he is that great star of Jacob who Makes Japhet unto Shem's sweet tents to go And bids the world write anthems of Rejoyces Because his grave makes ours a bed of Roses Where though he for a season rest and sleep Yet shall not earth him in her armes long keep But as the Sonne of God he thence shall rise And lead Captiv'ty captive through the skies And thence ascending to his glorious throne Shall be our all in all and all in One For notwithstanding all that stamp and stirre Whereby his grave is sealed and made sure Up up again he shall Gods holy one Can in the grave take no corruption But by his Resurrection makes our faith Triumph the more ore sinne ore hell and death The former times prefigur'd have this truth Did he not save one from the Lions mouth Was not another thrown amidst the Sea And after three dayes set at libertie Yea were not three at one thrown in the fire As vassals of a Tyrants proud desire Yet by his pow'r so preserv'd that the flame Did neither harm their haires nor garments seame Did not he by his mighty pow'r ere now Naims poor widowes sonne to life renew When Lazarus had four dayes ly'n in grave Did he not by his word his soule receive When as the good Centurion's daughter lay Asleep did he not turn her night to day When Eutichus did from his third loft fall Did not his quickning sp'rit his sp'rit recall And when Tabitha jappa's Nymph lay dead Did not his Cumi straight lift up her head Those and a thousand more then those doe stand As great Herculean trophces in his hand Those were but shaddows he the substance is The type was theirs the antitipe is his And all of those beare witnesse that his power Can kill and quicken rescue and devoure Now doth the date of that appointed time Wherein he should arise from Deaths dark clime Draw neer for from the sixt dayes afternoon The Sabbaths whol day he did rest eft soon The eight daies morn no sooner'gins to break But loe the sonne of Righteousnes doth wake And with a better light the world recleare Then ever Titan brought t' our Hemispheare And as that God who did the world create Upon the sixt day did man animate And on the seventh day celebrate his rest A type of our Eternall heavenly feast So did my Soules most grarious Redeemer Crush on the sixt day my soules sad blasphemer And on the seventh day resting in the grave Did from Goliahs hand his Isr'el save And rising on the eight dayes morne hath made The womans heel to bruise the serpents head This day of old had small or no respect But now to heav'n it doth our hearts erect And justly makes his Gods a ther the Sunne VVho in th'Eccliptick of true light doth run This day more sacred should be kept then any Because by it Salvation spirings to many And therefore 〈…〉 as farre As Titan hath beyond 〈…〉 staâ—reâ— For look how much our second birth is more Then our first birth 〈◊〉 is our Sabbath for Upon the sixth day we had our Creation But on this Sabbath light life and salvation And since upon this day we from our fall With him have rise it is Dominicall And merits to be sign'd with ink that 's red Because his blood our debt hath can celled Th' intended period of the time now come The sonne of Jesse Israels brid egroome Comes from his late bed-chamber richly deckt With Majesty with glory and respect His wedding garments robes and rings are on His griefes his passions and his woes
to possesse True Joy true Peace true Life and Righteousnesse Stay then poor Muse thy course soare not too high To search out that unsearched mysterie To know whose great unparalell'd perfection No Flesh hath yet attain'd by flesh-direction Content thy selfe in modesty to view His birth and at his Pedestall to bow Whose glorious light our darknesse doth expell And being God youchsafes with Men to dwell Come then and in a safe approach behold Him whom the heav'n of heav'ns could not enfold Now couch'd within a Crib and make poor beasts The witnesse of his Genethliack feasts A wake then Bethleem let me aske thee where Are all thy pleasant shades and dainty fare Thy sumptuous tables and thy quilt-strawd beds Whereon thy guests of late did rest their heads Where 's now thy pomp thou house of David where Are love and mercy banished that there Where Davids seed and Davids Lord likewise Should dwell thou shouldst his Royalty despise O sure I am it cannot be but now The house of David only doth allow His name but not his nature for I see Ev n in the throng of his Posteritie His Darling thrust to doores and forc'd to lay The worlds dread Soveraign in a cratch of clay But ô the deepnes and the riches both Of Wisedome and of Providence that doth Shine in thy wayes ô God whil'st thou dost make Thy Counsels known for our salvations sake This pur-blind world doth think that Fortune guides And Chance governs the ever-changing tides Of humane actions but 't is nothing so Live as wee list and goe where ere we goe Th'ore-ruling pleasure of thy secret will Governs our actions both in good and ill In Nazareth Christ was conceiv'd but loe In Bethleem he must be born and shew Himself first Man and there first breath our ayre Who makes the bread of Life our Soules rich fare That as he was a Naz'rite by conception Both separate from sinne and sins infection So he in Bethleems magazen might len ' The bread of life unto the sonnes of men One place must not engrosse him who was born For all no that were mock'ry and base scorn T'intrench his splendor in one private place Whose rayes must cherish all the world with grace Rome then was Stage where worldly honors grew Athens the Ocean where the Arts did flow Jerusalem the great Pontificate Where Rabbins in the Chaire of Moses sate But lo for Bethleems sake he now disdaines The trophies of those Metropolitans Not that the place could adde to his renown For Place can neither dignifie nor crown The Person but the Person doth decore And make the Place more splendid then before So he who from out Darknesse did display The worlds first lustre and baptiz'd it Day Ev'n he who from out Deaths devouring jawes And from the roaring Lions cruell pawes Makes lifes sweet well-spring richly to abonnd From Penuries despised womb and wound Makes Righteousnesse and Mercy Truth and Peace Each one another sweetly to embrace In whatsoever chance or change therefore This mortall life involve me the rich store Of his refining Providence shall still Enrich my Table and my Cup full-fill Yea make me sleep in safe and quiet rest Because he turneth all things to my best Yet let me stay a while and view this change Which through the world in Triumphs pomp doth range And makes fair Sions sons like Sinayes Clown To yeeld due homage to a Strangers Crown O God whence comes this wondrous alteration Whence springs the current of this desolation That they who erst were blest in fleecy flocks Whose Rivets were of milke whose steepest Rocks Distill'd a hony sweeter then the Mead Whereon their nibling troops did prank and feed Being blest at home abroad and in each plaine Blest by the ayre by sun-shine and by raine Whose force did daunt the Earth with trembling aw Whose Scepter writ their neighboring States their law Whose terrour made their proudest enemies then ' Gainst them march one way flye before them ten Should now as Vassals sigh and pant and groan Under the load of strange Subjection And bow their necks to bear the grievous Loans Of Tributes Taxes Impositions O now I see 't is not so much thy Care Great Caesar to augment thy glories share That these importning cruell Subsidies Like roaring thunders through the world now flies As 't is th' Almighties pleasure now even now Because the time is full from heav'n t' allow The worlds great Monarchy to thee that so The sonnes of Jacob may discern and know The visitation of their look'd for Grace And wisely learn the things which preach their Peace For I must tell thee Israel that since Thy Diadem's subdu'd t' a forraign Prince And since the Helm of thy Government stands Within the circuit of a Strangers hands The time is come that Shilo's golden ray Should light thy darknesse and begild thy day And that the Star of Jacob now should shine Not in an earthly grandeur but divine Hence hence it comes yet in obedience strain The Virgin goes to Nazareth amain But ore-charg'd by her burthen 's forc'd to stay And beare her Sonne at Bethleem by the way Where ô what 's Caesars Caesar hath and what Is due to God to God is consecrate For Caesar hath his penny God his Son The Devill his bane Man his salvation What shall I then dis-know thee ô thou Prince Of my salvation since for my offence Thou art subjected to these foule despisings That Sinne or Sathan send from their devisings In this so great and rare Nativity Let Junctyne Origen or great Ptolemie Copernicus or Tichâ—bra or they Who with the starry Influence doe play Look on this Non-such-birth and if they can Display his midnight or meridian It feares me much their judgements shall come short Of what this Theam and Birthright doth import For rule the Cuspe of his eight house who will His death shall our deaths Dominator kill And maugre hell and earth which him assaile He breaks the Dragons head and curbs his taile Isa 7.14 Isa 11.10 Gen. 49.9 Gen. 49.23 For Virgo beares him he in Libra lives The Archers wound him Leo him revives For though mans reason cannot think but all His Starres were dignifi'd both great and small Yet lo his Mother voyd of friend and Kinne Must make a Stable her bed-chambers Inne The Parlours all are fill'd with uncouth guests Their Chambers all are stuff'd with sumptuous feasts Proud pomp stern ryot foule and loath'd excesse Have took up Bethleems roomes both more and lesse And Superfluity dances such a round That for Necessity no place is found But she whose table in the heav'ns was deckt Must beare her Sonne disdain'd and disrespect Now now the Oxe may say I know my owner Now sayes the Asse This is my masters corner But Israel and Bethleem cannot know What homage to their Saviour they ow For every Prophet's honor'd save at home And he although amongst his own he come Yet was he
not received but despised Although in him the Godhead be comprised But ay me ay me why should we rebuke Thee Bethleem for that thou didst ore-look Thy long long look'd-for Monarch and disdain'd That God within thy doores should be maintain'd We we our selves are guilty much much more Of pride and lewd contempt at whose hearts dore He knocketh by his word each day we live And yet the sluggards answer to him give 'T is night say we from sleep why dost thou wake me A Lion by the way shall tare and take me My cloaths are off how can I put them on Cant. 5.3 My feet are washt and shall contagion Of Earths bedurting puddle make them foule And so my quiet and my rest controll No no this is no fitting time to talke In bed I rest goe thou abroad and walke O God of mercy grant us mercy for Our sinnes are risen to so huge a score That perish needs we must unlesse that thou Who made the Cock for Peters cause to crow Crow by thy Spirit in us and so make clean Our hearts that thou in them mayst still remain Thus was my Saviour in disdain receiv'd Whilst worms wretches were with pomp embrav'd He 's made an abject subject to disdain That we poor wretches might be born again He 's wrap'd in rags his bed's a crib of Clay That we might weare his Righteousnesse alway His harbour is a Cave yet doth hee'nlarge The heav'n of heav'ns to be our heritage And he who in himselfe is Lord of life Hath but one mayd for mother and midwife Man when at first he sinn'd did put on cloaths Yet such as subject were to dust and moaths But Christ new born is cloth'd with rags though clean Yet sure I am both peevish poore and mean And yet 's no sooner clothed with our flesh Than subject to our cursed nakednesse Jacob to gain his Father Isacks blessing Array'd in Esau's cloaths obtain'd his wishing But Christ arrayed in my flesh that he Might steale a blessing from himselfe to me Takes on him both my curse my sinne and shame And joynes me Co-heire to his Diadem That as my cloaths doe tell me I am Man His cloaths may tell me I 'm a Christian Up then my Soule up up and change thy cheere For loe how base so ev'r this Babe appeare By him thy Manna from out heav'n thou hast And eke by him Rephydim to thy taste Sends out her cooling rills Heavn's made thy house The World thy walk the Creatures serve thy use Twice now hath Salem by her Enemies Sigh'd out her Funerall dying obsequies First by the hoast of stern Nebuchadnezar Then by the trophies of triumphing Caesar An Idumaean now in Sion's known Jordan now counts her streams no more her own And what 's the worst of ills Jury sits mute Augustus taxeth she doth contribute Judge yet a righteous judgement sure will I And rest upon Gods providence for why He drawes great Caesar here t'enact but that Which many Prophets earst prognostioat And chiefly I will scan that sacred truth Which he of old proclaim'd by Michu's mouth For loe 't is written Bethleem though thou be Mich. 5.2 Despis'd in Judu's voyd of Majestie Yet out of thee shall rise that Ruler who Shall by his wounds and stripes and bloody flow As Judah's righteous Shepherd straight regather All wandring Israels flocks to their true Father Then O the deepnes of thy wayes my God! Who knows thy Paths or treads thy Judgments road How secret are thy Counsels actions just And favors great to such as in thee trust Where but in Bethleem that 's the house of bread Should our Soules bread of Life be harboured Or where but in the house of David may The heire of David Davids Scepter sway No holy David now from farre I smell What made thee thirst to sip of Bethleems well 2 Sam. 23. And having got a draught from thence didst yet Powr 't on the ground and wouldst not drink of it Now now I see it was this living water Which Bethlehem doth from her bosom scatter That thou didst long for and desire to taste That it might give a coole refreshing Rest To those impoyson'd scorchings which did burn In thy affections and Soules sacred Urn Yet wouldst thou not so much as drench thy lip Therewith but made it on the ground to trip That so a sweet drink-offring it might be For safety of their lives who brought it thee Recalling to thy mind that time drew neare Wherein thy Sonne should in our flesh appeare And from thy Stem a glorious sprig should spring Whose blood should quench the fiery Serpents sting And from his side should send the sweetest water That ever Fountain from her sourse should scatter Come then sweet babe and by that nectar'd draught With which th' art richly furnished and fraught Revive my Soule refresh my scorch'd desires Which thirst for thee more then the Hart requires To taste the current of those chrystall brooks Whose windings kisse the earth's meandring crooks Come come and by this document of thine Wherein thou lay'st aside thy glories shine Teach us who are but worms and dust and ashes To lay aside our prides empampring flashes Whose smoke of vanity and humane glory Doe turn our best hopes to a tragick story For if the Master have no fitter fare Why should the servant grudg his sober share No no my soule content thy self 't is hee Who knows no sinne that 's now made sinne for thee And being richly-rich is now made poore That his distress might thy true wealth secure Hee 's base that thou maist be exalted scorn'd That thou with glory maist be still adorn'd Hee dies that thou maist live and lies in grave That death dominion o're thee may not have Why shouldst thou then or frown or faint or fret For change or alteration of thy state No know that thy Redeemer lives above And that hee doth chastize whom he doth love For standing waters putrifie and rot When they who in a restless current trot Live to themselves and also t' others use VVithout contagious sench or dregs abuse If then wee suffer with him so shall wee Reigne with him in his matchless royalty And if his Crosse we shall deny he shall Deny us to his fathers Angels all Why should we then for mis'rys blustring blasts Quit-claim that glory which for ever lasts No let our Crown be here like his of Thorn Glory thereafter shall our heads adorne And if with him wee taste a cup of gall His bowls of new wine suit our festivall The Advent CANTO 5o. AS they who for their Zenith have the Pole When Titan first renews his Caprioll In their Horizon on their tip-toes stand To get th' approach of his long look'd for brand And write the welcom of his good new yeer In bloody Rubricks of their Calender So now whilst long and desolate night of deep Discomforts have made Syon's daughters weep Their glorious new-born Titan's
To see from whence and for what wondrous cause This radiant Torch so rich a splendor showes But all 's in vain nor Art nor Nature may I'ts scite light motion to the world display For all of those are in this subject rare Divine miraculous extraordinare But he from whom Nature first beg'd her light And hidden Science by his artlesse might Inspires those Sages and doth make them see This Star's the Prodrome of that Majestie By whom the Sonnes of Japhet now are led Within the Tents of Shem to hide their head Fie on thee Juda Salem fie on thee Why didst not thou as well as they foresee The glorious sun-shine of thy Visitation And greet the worker of this great Salvation But ah thy snorting dreams did thee deceive For thou didst still imagine thou shouldst have A Prince of such a temporall arm and power As to a honny-sweet should change thy sowre But loe whilst thou in darknesse lov'st to sleep A Nation com'th from farre and stately keep Their festivals of Joy thy Tents about Whilst thou and eke thy children are thrust out O God whence com'th't that those above the rest Have known thy Starre and so themselves addrest In paths of toyl and tedious pilgrimage To searrh thy birth as they did see thy badge Could Nature or her handmaid Art discover Thy Star or it distinguish from another No surrely no Combine them both in one And both shall teach us but confusion For without grace the naturall Man 's a foole And Arts chief Doctor when he sits at Schoole And doth investigate Heav'ns Earth and Aire And all those hoasts which Capriolls here or there In Natures precincts still the more he sees Arts hidden secrets Natures mysteries And sees not God the more his wit shall serve To glut his fancy but his soule to starve Thus they being led by the Celestiall light Through rocky Deserts and the toyls of night Doe come at last to Bethlehems walls and there This Torch stands fluttering o're them in the aire Till by thy guiding grace they doe espie The place wherein this Monarch-Prince doth lie No sooner doe they this sweet Babe behold Then by heav'ns inspiration they are bold T' unload their asses and their Camels backs T'untrusse their fardles and ungird their sacks And lay these sumptuous presents richly sweet Gold Mirhe and Incense at the Sucklings feet Whether they by Prophetick spirit did see His Kingdome Priesthood and his Prophecie Or if that by affections naturall Vain They thus doe greet him as their Soveraign I struggle not too much Let this suffice That in Religious awe they bow their knees And with a sacred sweet consorting voyce Thus doe they greet him and thus they rejoyce Thrice great thrice blessed and thrice holy Lord By whose Majestick uncontrolled Word What e're was fram'd within the point of Time Or hath a being in the aâ—â—r'd Clime Whose right hand doth from all Etern'ty bear Our clasped Issues unshun'd Kalendar Whose wisdome pow'r and deep providence guides The Delian Princesse in her sev'rall tides How boldly may we now rejoice and sing And call the carroling beav'ns thy praise to ring Who mak'st thy wondrous light to shine even there Where death made darknesse his Cubiculare Of old whilst Jacob was desir'd to blesse Josephs two sonnes with a Prophetick kisse He wisely cross'd his armes and his right hand He puts on Ephraims head where he did stand And on Manasseh made his left hand stay And so by practice he did prophecy That Japhets seed should dwell i' th' tents of Shem. And eke Manasseh bow to Ephraim This day we see that Vaticiny true Whilst we wilde prodigals our necks subdue To thee our God making Manasses share Rich as the vintage of Abiezer Since Israel therefore will not heare heare then You Heav'ns and Earth and shame the sonnes of Shem For we will praise th' Eternall and record The never failing goodnesse of the Lord. O blessed Babe how great art thou what store Of blessings girds thy Loyns for evermore For thou art he who dost exalt the horn Of Judah and his Pallaces adorn With bowls of Nectar and Ambrosian dyet And mak'st her graze in pastures of true quiet The Scepter of true Government 's on thy shoulder And thou shalt crush thy foes to dust and powder On Davids throne thou as his Sonne shalt sit In Judgment and in Truth t' establish it Yea Peace and Plenty shall thy steps attend And of thy Kingdom there shall be no end O loving Childe how lovely-faire art thou How sparkling are thy eyes how sweet thy brow How fragrant are the odours that distill On thee from Gilead and Hermonims hill Amongst the flowr's thou' rt chief the Rose the Lilly The Pink the Turn-sol and the Daffadilly Have no such odorif'rous smell or taste As thou reverb'rat'st from the West to th' East Live ' then sweet Babe the miracle of Time Earths mighty Champion Balm of humane crime Let thy great voyce in Peace resound throughout Earths flowry kirtle and Seas glassie spout That so thy favour in each part may be Immortall Nectar to Posteritie O what are we great God what 's our deserving That to confirme our faith so prone to swerving Thou dost thus shake heav'ns solid Orb and make Thy selfe a Vassall for a Vassals sake O that we could discern aright and know What duty service feare and love we owe Thee for that endlesse love wherewith thou hast Reclaim'd us from our wandrings to thy rest Teach us ô teach us so to run our race In patience and in patience to possesse Our Soules that thou at thy great day may'st clear Our Aegypt to a Goshen's hemisphear And change the tenour of our tragick story To the Catastroph ' of an endlesse glory The Massacre CANTO 7o. DIstraction tumult teares oppression jarre VVrath causlesse envy cruell murther warre Yea all those woes which Fury can forth bring Are now the Discant which my Muse must sing For whilst of late th' Eternall did invite By secret motions of his sacred Sp'rit Three Eastern Sages wisely to imbrace Th' occasion of their long long-look'd-for peace Like to Apollo's Priests intranc'd they rove From Herod's Palace to the Courts of Jove And with a thundring voyce they roare and cry Where 's Juryes King where where 's that Royall boy In whom the heav'ns have daign'd t' exalt the Throne Of Sions hopelesse Desolation His Star hath brought us from our home-bred joyes From ease from rest and from our quirks and toyes And made us tread those paths of sad exile T' imbrace the comforts of our widow-while Scarce had they breath'd those accents of unrest When vulture-feare layes hold on Herod's brest In such a sort that curs'd Erynnis crew Doe both his senses and his soule subdue What 's this I heare quoth he what threats be those Those wandring Pilgrims to the heav'ns up-throwes What brainsick tidings of a new-born King Are those which now through Jewryes Coasts do ring
in so fearfull fashion That they no sooner feel their grievous yoak But to the Sea they run and there they choak O glorious thou who to the world didst come T' unlose those snares which Sathan thrusts on some And leav'st some others to those sp'rituall bands Which in eternall darknesse prison stands Restrain our enemies rage controll his power Lest his assaults doe our poore soules devoure Ne'er did a swarm of hony sucking Bees Pursue a Waspe from out their Colonies With greater spight or more enraged spleen Then doth that blockish beastly Gadaren Republick thrust my Saviour from their coast Because of these few swine which they had lost O the blind change and choise o' th' sonnes of men Who ere they lose this worlds poore pelf will len ' Their Soules a pray to Sathan and betray A lasting glory for a moments pay With speed therefore my Saviour homeward goeth Because they loth'd his power and his truth And there behold a croud of sick folks lie A waiting him to cure their Maladie For some ev'n from their mothers wombe lay lame Some Leprous some Lethargique and some maim Some with an Apoplexy were o'retaken Some with a paralitioue blow were shaken Some with a Dissenterie doe decay Some with a Calcule on their reines doe cry Here one had eyes but now he 's dark and blind Here one was wise but now 's distract in mind A menstruall flux doth here distain a woman A burning Ague to another's common All those he healeth and so doing hath Gain'd many a Pros'lyte to the Christian faith But above all I stand amaz'd to spy How at Bethesdaes poole huge heaps doe lye Of poor weak sick diseased persons who Attend her motions and her watry flow For here an Angell at some speciall season Beyond all reach of humane sense and reason By moving of the waters gave release To all that were diseas'd in any case Providing alwaies that they stepping down Should drench themselves in her first motion An hieroglyphick of our Baptims washing Whose watry streames can never cleanse our tashing Unlesse th'Arch-angell of the Covenant Joyne his dread power to the Element A man oppress'd full eight and thirty yeere With strange diseases is at last brought here On whom Christ Jesus having fix'd his eyes Doth not enquire what were his maladies Where those his griefs did hold him or how long He had been bound with that infirm'ties thong But only asks him if he would be cured Of that saith he great Master be assured I hunger for my health but can not stirre To taste this waters first distemperature I cannot helpe my self and none I have To help me when their helping hand I crave Another alwayes stepping down before me Is cur'd and I as if all did abhorre me Must this my griefe and languishing sustain Till he who wounds me binde me up again Rise rise then saith my Saviour rise and walk I pitty thy distresse I heare thy talk The poore man riseth as Christ doth appoint And is restor'd to health in every joynt Behold saith Christ poore man now thou art whole And from thy crown unto thy very sole There is no bruise goe goe and sinne no more Lest worse befall thee then thou felt'st before Glad should I be if my poore Muse had breath To follow my Redeemer in that path Of strange stupendious miracles whereby In flesh he did expresse his Deity But wearied now she needs must rest a while And draw away her Pencill from that toile Which he from place to place did undertake To ease our sorrows for his mercies sake Only this one poore thing she must relate How he did Lâ—â—arus re-animate That in his Resurrection we may see Our Resurrections rich felicity As Chyrstall brooks have still the broader course The neerer they approach great Neptunes sourse So now the neerer that my Saviours dayes Draw to an end the more he still displayes His heav'nly wisedome and mirac'lous power When opportun'ty did the same procure Sicknes to man is prodrom of his death From which no nat'rall man exemption hath Even Lazarus whom Jesus lov'd is now Sick to the death and to the grave must bow Whil'st he is sick his sister Mary sendeth A messenger to Christ who first attendeth Him in his doctrine and thereafter saith Sir he whom thou dost love now almost pay'th His debt to Nature by his death for loe A burning Ague worketh his o'rethrow I know thou lov'st him and he loveth chee Let then thy love to him extended be For thou art love it selfe and from thy love It is that we doe live or breath or move I know saith Christ he 's sick but not to death Although this fit of Fever out his breath Yet shall the glory of the Lord appeare In his return to this lifes hemispheare And that the Sonne of God may glory have Let him be sick yea fick unto the grave A little after to his friends he saith Let us goe hence my staying here delay'th The work of God for Lâ—zarus our friend Lies fast asleep and I doe fully mind T' awake him up again for none but I Can rouze him from the graves deep Lethargy If he doe sleep say his Disciples then He shall be well for sleep doth soften pain But here they doe mistake they meant that sleep Which on our weâ—ried eyes doth softly creep But Christ did mean that sleep which in the grave Shall on each mortall man dominion have No no saith Christ to speak the truth indeed Our brother's dead and death doth on him feed And I am glad for your sakes that I was Not there when death o'return'd his short hour-glasse Alas my Saviour how canst thou be glad To see man under his afflictions sad Dost thou delight in our distresses no Thou tak'st no pleasure in our griefes or woe But as a loving father who doth see His only sonne in that perplexity Where wounds and blowes on th' one side threaten death And Triumph on the other promiseth Eternall honour hath more joy to know The fame which from out those his wounds shall flow Than he is sad to see his crimson blood Expatiat like a Dalmatian flood So from our light afflictions whil'st thou spies The trophies of thy glory to arise Thou dost much more rejoyce than thou canst grieve To see us wrestle and in end survive To Bethany he hasteth then for there Mary and Martha had their chiefe repaire And being come Mary with speed doth run To greet th'approach of this Imperiall Sun She sees him and down at his feet doth fall Master saith she hadst thou been here at all My brother had not dy'd Mary saith he Thy brother shall rise up again trust me I know saith she that at the gen'rall doome He shall arise and unto Judgment come Mary saith he hold but thy peace and thou Shalt see Gods glory manifested now Where have you laid him come come let me see They point the place He with a
all wrath that did begin This wofull combat in thy soule for loe What we should suffer thou didst undergoe Hence were thy griefes thy bloody sweats and teares Hence were thy supplicavions and thy feares Hence were th' affrighting passions of thy soule As man alone thou could'st not them controle The spirit of man infirm'ty may sustaine But who can beare th' Almighties deep disdaine To see the Sonne of God sweat drops of blood 〈…〉 And yet no wonder though â— wond'rous cause Produce effect that reason quite dissâ—nowes If hell and death have pains in tollâ—â—able If flesh be weak and humane faith be feeble What wonder was it though with flesh aray'd Thou of th'Eternalls wrath wa st so dismay'd The wonder is how thou our true Phisition Knowing our sicknesse and our sad condition Cor Id'st by the drinking of our poyson'd Cap Refresh our soules and eke revive our hope O that in this thy wofull agonie We could but read our own perplexitie So should our sighs and teares in time prevent Th' eternall throbbings of deaths punishment But since we cannot as we would recall Our mispent time and so repaire our fall O teach us in our lives to follow thee That with thee we may finde conformitie Of comfort in our crosse so shall thy grace Once make us to enjoy thee face to face Yea let the path or way be what it will Let griefe and toile and tears and torment still Beat down our outward Man yet let us make Our inner man more strong by faith and take Example by thee both in life and death To seek Gods favour and to 〈◊〉 his wrath The Surpryse CANTO 3o. THrice hath the Sonne of righteousnes display'd The soure-sweet symptoms of a soule dismay'd And thrice hath zeale-bred pray'rs prevayling power Recleer'd th'eclypses of his darkned houre Thrice hath he bidden his Discyples pray Lest to tentation they should one the way But while he checks their watch they 're still asleep Droun'd in the bottome of secur'ties deep So frequent are our foyles our faith â— unsteady That flesh is ever weak though th'spirit's ready Yet once more will he rouze them from their rest And print this farewell Sermon in their breast My friends saith he oft have I bid you watch Lest Sathan in his snare your soules should catch But you havedroup'd you have been drouzy still Hence forth goe sleep and take your rest at will For th' houre is come The Sonne of Man 's betray'd The Traitounis at hand and for his avde An armed Legion com'th yet none can take My life from me but for my poore sheeps sake I lay it down and take it up againe And by my willing death you life retain Arise let us goe hence Scarse are they gone When loe the traitor and his legion Come all along and to my Saviour goe First to surprize him then work his ov'r throw And first comes Judus in a poore Lambs fleece Though inwardly a raying Wolfe be is Throwing his arms about his Masters neck Doth greet him with this foule dissembling check Haile Master to his word he joyns a kisse And by that signall tells the troupe who h 'is But ô my Saviour meekly doth enquire Friend wherefore com'st thou so dost thou desire By this thy kisse to kill the Sonne of Man The task is foule goe on doe what thou can Hadst thou but as a stranger been suborn'd Thus to betray me I could well have born 't Or hadst thou as a causlesse hatefull foe Conspir'd to work and perpetrate my woe I would not then have grudged But to see Him who did dip his hand i th' dish with me And him who in my bosome lately lay Lift up his heele against me and betray Me to the death 't is strange but Father what Thou hast begun continue consummat Fie on thee Judas Sathans first born sonne Hadst thou but kept one spark of grace within Thy hellish breast these words of friendly love Might have suffic'd thy treach'rous heart to move And pull'd thee down upon thy soules bow'd knees To beg the pardon of thy treacheries But ah as one poore bubbling drop alone Can hardly gutter flint or Porphire stone So hardly can one word though ne'er so â—â—ue An indur'd heart to sense of sinne subdue Whil'st thus he spâ—â—ks to Judas all the â—est Of that proud rable have themselves addrest To apprehend him straight way He but saith Whom seek you friends Jesus of Nar areth Say they he answers Surely I am he Which words import he 's God and Man trulie Iam did from the burning bush foretell The safe redemption of his Israel And this word He doth his human'ty show Who by his death should satisfie the Law For he 's the Man and truly onely He Who gives man life and imâ—ortalitie No sooner hath he spoke â—hose words I 'm he When by those words consounded back they flie And to the ground doe fall such was the power And piercing virtue of my Saviour He doth enquire againe Whom would you have Jesus say they the man of Naxareth I surely am the man saith he the truth I have already told you from my mouth If me you seek then let those goe their way From you I shall not flie but with you stay For what is writ of me fulfill I must Let those goe safe lot me sustain the worst Not long agoe my Saviour hath foretold The times were comming in the which men should Of two coats sell the one and buy a sword Peter remembreth this Prophetione Word And seeing Matchas proudly lay his hand Upon his Master draweth forth his brand And ayminght proud Malchus head that blow Did crop his eare and cut it quite in two Surely the sword of Peter was but just Who stops his ear to God and man doth trust May justly lose his eare his eye his hand And all his body that doth God withstand But Peter here doth wrong could he but know 't He beats the stone and quts the hand did throw 't The blow on Judas should have been moresure Who th' Author was of this distemp'rature Malchus but acts false Judas falser plot 'T is pitty Judas had not Malchus lot Yet that poore Peter now may wisely know That good intention's not enough to show The actions good and that shows cannot hide The hidden frailty of a self-sick pride Christ bids him put his transhing sword againe Into his place for humane streng this vaine And he who by the sword his will doth cherish Shall sometime by the sword both fall and perish Dost thou not know saith he that what a cup My father doth propine I must drink up Thouh it were ne'er so bitter were 't not so This world should perish in an endlesse woe Or dost thou think that if I pleas'd t' escape I could not this earths drossie globe ov'rleap And riding on a thousand Cherubs wings Prepareany ineseue with the King of Kings Or think'st thou not but if I lov'd t'remove I
I know not what you think him worthy sure I think him guilty shamefull death t' indure To this they all applaud with acclamation O let him die and perish from this Nation Yet once more proudly doth the Priest enquire Him of his Doctrine and Disciples Ire And rapid rage doth to his soule possesse That Truth and Conscience with him have no place Christ answers In your Synagogues have I Still taught and by me nothing secretly Is done or said enquire of them therefore Who heard me let them witnesse lesse or more By this one of those slaves who stood neer by Doth smite him on the face most vil'nously And ads this motto to his cruell blow What Villaine dost thou answer th' High-Priest so Christ meekly replyes If I have spoke wrong Beare witnesse of it but if thus my tongue Hath spoke the truth why smit'st thou me 't may be Some higher hand repay thy villanie Ah me my God how hath this High Priest still Spoke prophecy although against his will Of late he said it was expedient that One for the nation should be immolat And now he sayes he 's guilty to the death And so both truth and lye pronounced hath O what a vaticiny what a word Is this that Caiaphas doth now afford Guilty he was to die the death he come And yet not guilty to the death as some Man born in sinne to die the death is born Because by sinne he 's guilty and forelorne But he did neither sinne nor know trespasse For Gods 〈◊〉 ' â—â— Lambe and Sonne he was And therefore since he knew not sinne no death Ov'r him or power or jurisdiction hath Yet guilty was he for 〈◊〉 guilt he tooke And by the way for 〈…〉 of the brooke And so was guilty made to death for loe His bodies death must our soules death ov'rthrow Thus was he guilty to the death and yet Nor guilt nor death his innocence did fit His was the death the guilt was ours and so Both from the guilt and death w' are free to goe Next to this censure all those catyss still With excrements his glorious face doe spill And though the glorious hoast of heav'n are bold In him to gaze Gods wisdome manifold Yet muffling up his face they hood-wink's eyes Then crave in scorn to heare his Prophecies This not enough they be not yet content T' afflict his body and his soule torment But what is more to Pilat's civill power They lead him there to have his death made sure From out the High Priests house and hall he 's led And unto Pilat's hall is carried Tumultuous crowds of people run along To make their malice and their griefe more strong And in Iudibrious manner thus doe cry Here 's Naz'reths Propher pray you make him way Pilat affrighted with the Convocation Comes forth and cals the head o' th' Combination And asks the cause of this their concourse for Such stirre Jerus'lem had not seen before Yet ere the Roman Depute will approve Their combination he doth gravely move This question to them What hath this man done Or gainst the State or gainst Religion If he had nor a malefactour been Say they to Pilate sure thou hadst not seen Us stand as supplicants before thy doore Nor had we ever judg'd him by thy pow'r O cruell catiffes irreligious you Who act such murther under pieties show To Pilat's house you come but will not enter As if his house were hells condemning center Woe woe to you Scribes Pharisees and Priests You rav'ning Wolves dissembling Hypocrites Why doe you think by ' xternall rites and showes To purge that poyson in your hearts ov'rflowes Why doe you make your platter clean without While as the fountain's poyson'd round about Why doe you guild your graves with pretious stones Whose richest linings are but rotten bones Why doe you wash your hands so oft with water While as your hearts be lust and prides Theater It is not Pilat's roof nor Pilat's wall Nor the corruption of his Judgements hall Can make you so unclean or so impure As doth your sinfull soules distemp'rature For what is from without cannot so much Defile the Man as doth the hearts hid touch But thus th' Almighty hath decreed and thus You have determin'd by a secret push To catch the innocent unto your snare While as your words be soft and smoothly faire But he who in the highest heav'ns doth dwell Can both your fraud detect and pride repell And will in his own time your plots repay Upon your pates with woe and weal-away Jesus now stands before the Pagan Judge And from his fury findeth no refuge Pilat enquires him Art thou Juries King I am saith he without dissembling But in this world my Kingdome hath no place Nor hath this world a portion of my grace Pilat then on his Judgements feat fits down And once more asks him of Judaeas Crown And tels him that if he that Crown should claim Then should he wrong Augustus Diadem Not I saith he let Caesar have what 's his And God what 's God's no other thing I wish But while this Roman on his bench doth sit His wife did by her letter him intreat Yea she adjures him that he should not touch That just man for saith she I 've suffer'd much Concerning him this last night in my sleep The gods preserve thee and thy conscience keep That unto him thou doe no wrong nor harm For feare hath giv'n my soule a sad alarme This Pilat reads but 's deafe to such a tale Where will doth govern words will not prevaile He therefore calls the multitude aloud Heare mut'nous you and hark you envious croud Whom will you that at this your solemne feast I should let loose to you what think you best Here have we Barrabas a murth'ring thiefe Will you that he goe loose and have reliefe Or shall we let this Jesus goe pray tell For your desire shall be my Centinell O Barrabas say they let him goe free But for this Jesus him let 's Crucifie VVell then saith Pilat since it must be so Him shall you have and Barrabas shall goe Yet bring me here some water water 's brought And for dissimulation lacketh nought His hands he washeth his dissembling heart Stands still corrupt and foul in every part Yet doth he call Come malecontented you To this just man take heed what you shall doe For in him I doe finde no fault at all Why one haire of his head to ground should fall I therefore to your conscience doe appeale To Church to Councell and to Common-weale That from his blood I stand this day as free As be my hands from their impurity Alas vain Pilot hadst thou cleans'd thy heart As thou hast wash'd thy hands then sure no part Of this mans blood should have against thee cry'd Then should both heart and hand been purifi'd But since one thing thou sayst and dost another Thy words shall not thy foule transgression smother In short time thou
whose right hand doth plant The rut'lant starres amidst the Firmament Who pav'st the Ocean with thy orient gem Plant in my soule thy Artimesian stem And like the lotos in Euphrates bosome Be thou the Sun that still re-clears my blossome But ay me what is this I now doe heare Thee say to Mary Mary come not neare And touch me not Art thou that fi'ry bush Which made old Moses stand afar no tush The flames and threats of Sinay now are gone And thou art made our very flesh and bone Yea thou hast bid us touch and taste and feele How good thou art to Isr'els Common-weale And yet as if thou wouldst some distance try Thou stopp'st our wonted famil'arity It is not long since thou endur'dst a touch Which justly tearmed might have been Non-such A Traitor kissed thee a Rascall knave Did with his buffet and his spit out-brave Thy glorious face thy head was crown'd with thorns Thy hands and feet were pierc'd and with proud scorns Of thy unlook'd for death a speare did part The water and the blood from out thy heart Those touches thou endur'dst but ay me now Thou call'st for distance but I know not how It can subsist with thy unchanged love To change a sweet imbracet'a sad remove But pardon me my God for now I finde That too much love hath made her judgment blinde For since she saw thee put in porta mortis Her eyes have still been drown'd in aqua fortis And in her rapture whil'st she cryes Rabboni She turnes her Benjamini to Benoni For though thou still be what thou wast before True God and Man yet art thou now some more Then man and mortall but immortall now Kodesh laihova is writ on thy brow The Vrim and the Thummim on thy breast Tels Aaron's dead and Melchisedeck â—s Priest And since true life hath triumph over death Now must we live no more by sense but faith And by the spirit not the flesh must we Now seek our God and his felicitie Some eight dayes hence Christs Disciples meet And in a private chamber closely sit The doores being shut Christ Jesus commeth in And greets them with his 〈◊〉 then doth begin To rouz their 〈…〉 Soulles from â—eare to â—aith Which oâ— salvaâ—ion 〈…〉 promise hath To waken Thomas from his misbeliefe For lack of faith ' mongst many sins is chiefe Thomas saith he thou hast of late deny'd To trust my Resurrection till my side My hands my feet and all my wounds doe give Thee by thy touch true reason to believe I pitty this thy weaknes for I know The sourse and fountain whence this stream doth flow Is not proud malice but infirmitie The sp'rit speaks faith flesh infidelitie T is true that when those wounds I did receive And from my Crosse was carried to my grave Thou didst not see me for thou rann'st away When Judas by his kisse did me betray But now thou art return'd and so am I Thou from thy fears I from mortality And since I see upon thy fingers end Thy faith and resolution doth depend Come come thy touch not only shall be fed But al 's ' thy other senses satisfied Come come I say behold those wounds of mine And let not misbeliefe ' gainst faith repine Reach here thy fingers boldly touch my hands Touch those my feet see how my side yet stands Wide open with those wounds which did of late My harmlesse body cru'ly penetrate And be not thou a faith lesse Did'mus more But make true faith ov'rflow thy hard hearts shore Thomas no sooner doth stretch out his fingers To touch Christs side when loe from off her hingers Christ pulls his heart which then was hard as stone And with the touch of true contrition Makes him bewaile his infidel'ty more Then he was bent to harden it before O now I finde saith he and cryes aloud Thou art the Christ my very Lord my God O happy Thomas what a happy change Is this which now doth in thy bosome range Of late thou saidst Unlesse I surely see The stamps of death in his mortalitie I will not trust what ever can be sed That he from death can be recovered But now behold what nature could not see Faith doth perceive behold that Mustard tree Of faith in thee hath been most shrewdly shaken Yet from the root it hath not quite been taken O what a forcelesse force of heav'ns high thought This alteration in thy brest hath wrought For one thing thou didst see believe another And this made Faith and Nature joyn together One thing thy eyes did see that he was Man Thy heart believes him God 't is more than can By natures rules or documents of art Couch in thy conscience or confirm thy heart But ô the power of the Almighty who Unto the weak joyns grace and nature so That what weak nature cannot work for want Of strength grace there doth furnish supplement And though that faith doth build her house on that Which to the nat'rall eye 's unseen yet what May help weak nature and procure her strength She doth amasse together and at length From both their Magazens draws forth that store Of grace which Sathan can deface no more Thrice happy Thomas who didst thus believe Because thou saw'st but if that God shall give The grace to such as never saw to trust Thrice happy they their faith shall make them just For when they by the heav'ns great power shall Arise to make their last Judiciall Account their unseen faith shall make them see Death hath no sting Grave hath no vietorie Thus standeth Thomas to the faith converted From him a hard heart by a touch is parted Christ to the rest of those his brethren saith Brethren these times require much strength of faith Harken therefore to what I to you say 'T is long since I first said I goe my way And you were heavy that I so should speak For then your faith was wav'ring faint and weak But now your eares have heard youe eyes have seen What I have suffred yet my wounds be green Gird up your loynes therefore henceforth be strong For he who wrongeth you to me doth wrong And whoso harmeth you he harmeth me I love you as the apple of mine eye Yet must not I alwayes on earth remain I to my Father must return again And to your Father to my God I goe And to your holy one and God also My God is your God and my Father 's yours The gates of hell and all their darkned powr's Shall not be able ' gainst you to prevaile My Scepter and my Rod their strength shall quaile Full forty times brave Titan now hath run About the world and stay'd where he begun Full forty dayes hath he yea each day once Saluted and adieu'd both Horizons Full forty times hath Pha'ton's Chariots wheel Bid Flora both good morrow and farewell Now now 't is time that Jesus should goe hence T' enjoy the throne of his magnificence Not