Ah not my sonne my soule it is that dyes It dyes for drought yet had a spring in sight VVorthy to dye that would not liue and might Faire Absolons foule faults compard with mine Are brightest sands to mud of Sodome lakes High aymes yong spirits birth of royall line Made him play false where kingdomes were the stakes He gazd on golden hopes whose lustre winnes Sometime the grauest wittes to grieuous sinnes But I whose crime cuts off the least excuse A kingdome lost but hop'd no mite of gaine My highest marke was but the worthlesse vse Of some few lingring howres of longer paine Vngratefull child his parent he pursude I Gyants warre with God himselfe renude Ioy infant Saints whom in the tender flower A happy storme did free from feare of sinne Long is their life that die in blisfull hower Ioyfull such ends as endles ioyes begin Too long they liue that lyue till they be nought Life sau'd by sinne base purchase deerely bought This lot was mine your fate was not so fearce VVhom spotlesse death in cradle rockt a sleepe Sweet Roses mixt with Lillies strow'd your hearce Death virgin white in martirs red did steepe Your downy heads both pearles and rubies crownd My hoary locks did femall feares confound You bleating Ewes that waile thys vvoluish spoyle Of sucking Lambes new bought with bitter throwes To balme your babes your eyes distill theyr oyle Each hart to tombe her child wide rupture showes Rue not theyr death whom death did but reuiue Yeeld ruth to me that liu'd to die aliue VVith easie losse sharpe wreacks dyd he eschew That Sindonles aside did naked slyp Once naked grace no outward garment knew Rich are his robes whom sinne did neuer stryp I that in vaunts displaid prides fayrest flags Disrob'd of grace am wrapt in Adams rags VVhen traytor to the Sonne in Mothers eyes I shall present my humble sute for grace VVhat blush can paint the shame that will arise Or write my inward feeling in my face Might she the sorrow with the sinner see Though I dispisde my griefe might pittyed bee But ah how can her eares my speech endure Or sent my breath still reeking hellish steeme Can Mother like what did the Sonne abiure Or hart deflowr'd a virgins loue redeeme The Mother nothing loues that Sonne doth loath Ah lothsome wretch detested of them both O sister Nymphes the sweet renowned payre That blesse Bethania bounds with your aboade Shall I infect that sanctified ayre Or staine those steps where Iesus breath'd and trode No let your prayers perfume that sweetned place Turne me with Tygers to the wildest chase Could I reuiued Lazarus behold The thyrd of that sweet Trinitie of Saints VVould not astonisht dread my sences hold Ah yes my hart euen with his naming faints I seeme to see a messenger from hell That my prepared torments comes to tell O Iohn ô Iames we made a triple corde Of three most louing and best loued friends My rotten twist was broken with a word Fit now to fuel fire among the fiends It is not euer true though often spoken That triple twisted corde is hardly broken The dispossessed deuils that out I threw In Iesus name now impiously forsworne Triumph to see mee caged in theyr mew Trampling my ruines with contempt and scorne My periuries were musick to their daunce And now they heape disdaines on my mischaunce Our rock say they is riuen ô welcome hower Our Eagles wings are clypt that wrought so hie Our thundering Cloude made noise but cast no shower He prostrate lyes that would haue scal'd the sky In womans tongue our runner found a rub Our Cedar now is shrunke into a shrub These scornefull wordes vpbraid my inward thought Proofes of their damned prompters neighbour voice Such vgly guests still wait vpon the nought Fiends swarm to soules that swarue from vertues choise For breach of plighted truth this true I trie Ah that my deede thus gaue my word the lie Once and but once too deere a once to twice it A heauen in earth Saints nere my selfe I saw Sweet was the sight but sweeter loues did spice it But sightes and loues did my misdeed with-draw From heauen and Saints to hell and diuels estrang'd Those sights to frights those loues to hates are chang'd Christ as my God was tempted in my thought As man he lent mine eyes their dearest light But sinne his temple hath to ruine brought And now he lightneth terrour from his sight Now of my lay vnconsecrate desires Prophaned wretch I tast the earned hires Ah sinne the nothing that doth all things file Out-cast from heauen earths curse the cause of hell Parent of death author of our exile The wrecke of soules the wares that fiends do sell. That men to monsters Angels turnes to diuels VVrong of all rights selfe ruine root of euils A thing most done yet more then God can doe Dayly new done yet euer done amisse Friended of all yet vnto all a foe Seeming a heauen yet banishing from blisse Serued with toyle yet paying nought but paines Mans deepest losse though false esteemed gaine Shot without noyse wound without present smart First seeming light prouing in fyne a lode Entring with ease not easily wonne to part Far in effects from that the showes abode Endorc'd with hope subscribed with dispaire Vgly in death though life did faine it faire O forfeiture of heauen eternall debt A moments ioy ending in endlesse fires Our natures scumme the worlds entangling Net Night of our thoughts death of all good desires VVorse then all this worse then all tongues can say VVhich man could owe but onely God defray This fawning viper dumme till he had wounded VVith many mouthes doth now vpbraid my harmes My sight was vaild till I my selfe confounded Then did I see the dissinchanted charmes Then could I cut the anotomy of sinne And search with Linxes eyes what lay within Bewitching euill that hides death in deceits Still borrowing lying shapes to maske thy face Novv know I the deciphring of thy sleights A cunning deerely bought with losse of grace Thy sugred poyson now hath wrought so well That thou hast made me to my selfe a hell My eye reades mournfull lessons to my hart My hart doth to my thought the griefes expound My thought the same doth to my tongue impart My tongue the message in the eares doth sound My eares back to my hart theyr sorrowes send Thus circkling griefes runne round without an end My guilty eye still seemes to see my sinne All things Charecters are to spell my fall VVhat eye doth reade without hart rues within VVhat hart doth rue to pensiue thought is gall VVhich when the thought would by the tongue disgest The eare conuayes it backe into the brest Thus gripes in all my parts do neuer fayle VVhose onely league is now in bartring paines VVhat I in grosse they traffique by retayle Making each others miseries theyr gaines All bound for euer prentizes to care VVhile I in
thee Let me dye or liue thou in mee VVhere the truth once was and is not Shaddowes are but vanitie Shewing want that helpe they cannot Signes not salues of miserie Paynted meate no hunger feedes Dying life each death exceedes VVith my loue my life was nestled In the somme of happinesse From my loue my life is wrested To a world of heauinesse O let loue my life remoue Sith I liue not where I loue O my soule what did vnloose thee From thy sweete captiuitie God not I did still possesse thee His not mine thy libertie O two happie thrall thou wart VVhen thy prison was his hart Spightfull speare that break'st this prison Seate of all felicitie VVorking this with double treason Loues and liues deliuerie Though my life thou drau'st away Maugre thee my loue shall stay Times goe by turnes THE lopped tree in time may grow againe Most naked plants renew both fruit and flower The soriest wight may finde release of paine The dryest soyle sucke in some moystning shower Times goe by turnes and chaunces chaunge by course From foule to faire from better happe to worse The sea of fortune doth not euer flowe She drawes her fauours to the lowest ebbe Her tydes hath equall times to come and goe Her Loome doth weaue the fine and coursest webbe No ioy so great but runneth to an end No hap so hard but may in fine amend Not alwaies fall of leafe nor euer spring No endles night yet not eternall day The saddest birds a season find to sing The roughest storme a calme may soone alay Thus with succeeding turnes God tempereth all That man may hope to rise yet feare to fall A chaunce may winne that by mischaunce was lost The net that holdes no great takes little fish In some things all in all things none are crost Fewe all they neede but none haue all they wish Vnmedled ioyes here to no man befall VVho least hath some who most hath neuer all Looke home REtyred thoughts enioy their owne delights As beautie doth in selfe beholding eye Mans mind a mirrour is of heauenlie sights A briefe wherein all meruailes summed lye Of fayrest formes and sweetest shapes the store Most gracefull all yet thought may grace them more The mind a creature is yet can create To natures patterns adding higher skill Of finest works wit better could the state If force of wit had equall power of will Deuise of man in working hath no end VVhat thought can think an other thought can mend Mans soule of endlesse beauties image is Drawne by the worke of endles skill and might This skilfull might gaue many sparkes of blisse And to discerne this blisse a natiue light To frame Gods image as his worthes requird His might his skill his word and will conspird All that he had his image should present All that it should present he could afford To that he could afford his will was bent His will was followed with performing word Let this suffize by this conceiue the rest He should he could he would he did the best Fortunes falshood IN worldly meriments lurketh much miserie Slie fortunes subtilties in baites of happinesse Shrowd hookes that swallowed without recouerie Murder the innocent with mortall heauinesse She sootheth appetites with pleasing vanities Till they be conquered with cloaked tyrannie Than changing countenance with open enmities She triumphes ouer them scorning their slauerie VVith fawning flatterie deaths doore she openeth Alluring passengers to bloodie destenie In offers bountifull in proofe shee beggereth Mens ruines registring her false felicitie Her hopes are fastened in blisse that vanisheth Her smart inherited with sure possession Constant in crueltie shee neuer altereth But from one violence to more oppression To those that follow her fauours are measured As easie premises to hard conclusions VVith bitter corrosiues her ioyes are seasoned Her highest benefits are but illusions Her wayes a laborinth of wandring passages Fooles common pilgrimage to cursed deieties VVhose fond deuotion and idle menages Are wagde with wearinesse in fruitlesse drudgeries Blind in her fauorites foolish election Chaunce is her arbiter in giuing dignities Her choyse of visions shewes most discretion Sith welth the vertuous might wrest from pietie To humble suppliants tyrant most obstinate She suters aunswereth with contrarieties Proud with petition vntaught to mitigate Rigour with clemencie in hardest cruelties Like Tygre fugitiue from the ambitious Like weeping Crodocile to scornefull enemies Suing for amitie where shee is odious But to her followers forswearing curtesies No wind so changeable no sea so wauering As giddie Fortune in reeling varieties Now mad now mercifull now fierce now fauoring In all things mutable but mutabilities Scorne not the least WHere wards are weake foes encountring strong VVhere mightier doe assault then doe defend The feebler part puts vp enforced wrong And silent sees that speech could not amend Yet higher powers must thinke though they repine VVhen sunne is set the little starres will shine VVhile Pike doth range the silly Tench doth flie And crouch in priuie creekes with smaller fish Yet Pikes are caught when little fish goe bie These fleet a flote while those doe fill the dish There is a time euen for the wormes to creepe And sucke the dew while all their foes doe sleepe The Marlyne cannot euer sore on high Nor greedy Grey-hound still pursue the chase The tender Larke will finde a time to flie And fearefull Hare to runne a quiet race He that high growth on Ceders did bestow Gaue also lowly Mush-rumpts leaue to grow In Amans pompe poore Mardocheus wept Yet God did turne his fate vpon his foe The Lazar pinde while Diues feast was kept Yet he to heauen to hell did Diues goe VVe trample grasse and prize the flowers of May Yet grasse is greene when flowers doe fade away The Natiuitie of Christ. BEholde the father is his daughters sonne The bird that built the nest is hatch'd therein The olde of yeares an houre hath not out-runne Eternall life to liue doth now beginne The word is dumme the mirth of heauen doth weepe Might feeble is and force doth faintly creepe O dying soules behold your liuing spring O dazeled eyes behold your sonne of grace Dull eares attend what word this word doth bring Vp heauie hartes with ioye your ioye embrace From death from darke from deafenesse from dispaires This life this light this word this ioye repaires Gift better then him selfe God doth not know Gift better then his God no man can see This gift doth here the giuer giuen bestow Gift to this gift let each receiuer bee God is my gift himselfe he freely gaue me Gods gift am I and none but God shall haue me Man altered was by sinne from man to beast Beastes foode is haye haye is all mortall flesh Now God is flesh and lies in Manger prest As haye the brutest sinner to refresh O happie fielde wherein this fodder grew VVhose tast doth vs from beasts to men renew ¶ Christs childhood TIll twelue yeres
shop of shame trade sorrowes ware Pleasd with displeasing lot I seeke no change I wealthiest am when richest in remorce To fetch my ware no seas nor lands I range For customers to buy I nothing force My home-bred goods at home are bought and sold And still in me the interest I hold My comfort now is comfortlesse to liue In Orphan state deuoted to mishap Rent from the roote that sweetest fruit did giue I scorn'd to graffe in stocke of meaner sap No iuice can ioy me but of Iesse flower VVhose heauenly roote hath true reuiuing power At sorrowes dore I knockt they crau'd my name I aunswered one vnworthy to be knowne VVhat one say they one worthiest of blame But who a wretch not Gods nor yet his owne A man O no a beast much worse what creature A rocke how cald the rocke of scandale Peter From whence from Caiphas house ah dwell you there Sinnes farme I rented there but now would leaue it VVhat rent my soule what gaine vnrest and feare Deere purchase Ah too deere will you receiue it VVhat shall we giue fit teares and times to plaine me Come in say they thus griefes did entertaine me VVith them I rest true prisoner to theyr Iayle Chain'd in the yron linkes of basest thrall Tyll grace vouchsafing captiue soule to bayle In wonted See degraded loues enstall Dayes passe in plaints the nights without repose I wake to weepe I sleepe in waking woes Sleepe deaths allye obliuion of teares Silence of passions balme of angry sore Suspence of loues securitie of feares VVrathes lenitiue harts ease stormes calmest shore Sences and soules repriuall from all cumbers Benumming sence of ill with quiet slumbers Not such my sleepe but whisperer of dreames Creating strange chymeraes fayning frights Of day discourses giuing fansie theames To make dumme shewes with worlds of antick sights Casting true griefes in fansies forging mold Brokenly telling tales rightly fore-told This sleepe most fitly suteth sorrowes bed Sorrow the smart of euill Sinnes eldest child Best when vnkind in killing who it bred A racke for guiltie thoughts a bit for wild The scourge that whips the salue that cures offence Sorrow my bed and home while life hath sence Heere solitary Muses nurse my griefes In silent lonenesse burying worldly noyse Attentiue to rebukes deafe to reliefes Pensiue to foster cares carelesse of ioyes Ruing lifes losse vnder deathes dreary roofes Solemnizing my funerall behoofes A selfe contempt the shroud my soule the corse The beere an humble hope the herse cloth feare The mourners thoughts in blacks of deepe remorse The herse grace pittie loue and mercy beare My teares my dole the priest a zealous will Pennance the tombe and dolefull sighes the knill Christ health of feuer'd soule heauen of the mind Force of the feeble nurse of Infant loues Guide to the wandring foote light of the blind VVhom weeping winnes repentant sorrow moues Father in care mother in tender hart Reuiue and saue me slaine with finnefull dart If king Manasses sunke in depth of sinne VVith plaints and teares recouered grace and crowne A worthlesse worme some milde regard may winne And lowly creepe where flying threw it downe A poore desire I haue to mend my ill I should I would I dare not say I will I dare not say I will but wish I may My pride is checkt high wordes the speaker spilt My good ô Lord thy gift thy strength my stay Giue what thou bidst and then bid what thou wilt VVorke with me what thou of me do'st request Then will I dare the most and vow the best Prone looke crost armes bent knee and contrite hart Deepe sighes thicke sobs dew'd eyes prostrate praiers Most humbly beg release of earned smart And sauing shroud in mercies sweete repaires If iustice should my wrongs with rigor wage Feares would dispaires ruth breed a hopelesse rage Lazar at pitties gate I vlcered lye Crauing the reffues crummes of childrens plate My sores I lay in view to mercies eye My rags beare witnesse of my poore estate The wormes of conscience that within me swarme Proue that my plaints are lesse then is my harme VVith mildnesse Iesu measure my offence Let true remorse thy due reuenge abate Let teares appease when trespasse doth incense Let pittie temper thy deserued hate Let grace forgiue let loue forget my fall VVith feare I craue with hope I humbly call Redeeme my lapse with raunsome of thy loue Trauerse th'inditement rigors doome suspend Let frailtie fauour sorrowes succour moue Be thou thy selfe though changling I offend Tender my sute clense this defiled denne Cancell my debts sweet Iesu say Amen The end of Saint Peters complaint MARY MAGDALENS BLVSH THE signes of shame that staine my blushing face Rise from the feeling of my rauing fits VVhose ioy annoy whose guerdon is disgrace VVhose solace flyes whose sorrow neuer flits Bad seede I sow'd worse fruite is now my gaine Soone dying mirth begat long liuing paine Now pleasure ebbes reuenge beginnes to flow One day doth wreake the wrath that many wrought Remorse doth tcach my guiltie thoughts to know How cheape I sould that Christ so deerely bought Faults long vnfelt doth conscience now bewray VVhich cares must cure and teares must wash away All ghostly dynts that grace at me did dart Like stubborne rocke I forced to recoyle To other flights an ayme I made my hart whose wounds then wel-come now haue wrought my foyle VVoe worth the bow woe worth the archers might That draue such arrowes to the marke so right To pull them out to leaue them in is death One to this world one to the world to come VVounds may I weare and draw a doubtfull breath But then my wounds will worke a dreadfull dome And for a world whose pleasures passe away I lose a world whose ioyes are past decay O sence ô soule ô had ô hoped blisse You wooe you weane you draw you driue me back Your crosse encountring like their combate is That neuer end but with some deadly wrack VVhen sence doth winne the soule doth loose the field And present haps make future hopes to yeeld O heauen lament sence robbeth thee of Saints Lament ô soules sence spoyleth you of grace Yet sence doth scarse deserue these hard complaints Loue is the thiefe sence but the entring place Yet graunt I must sence is not free from sinne For theefe he is that theefe admitteth in ¶ Marie Magdalens complaynt at Christes death SIth my life from life is parted Death come take thy portion VVho suruiues when life is murdred Liues by meere extortion All that liue and not in God Couch their life in deaths abod Seely starres must needes leaue shining VVhen the sunne is shaddowed Borrowed streames refraine their running VVhen head springs are hindered One that liues by others breath Dieth also by his death O true life since thou hast left me Mortall life is tedious Death it is to liue without thee Death of all most odious Turne againe or take me to
little sweete hath many fowres Short hap immortall harmes Her louing lookes are murdring dartes Her songs bewitching charmes Like winter rose and sommer I se Her ioyes are still vntimely Before her hope behind remorse Faire first in fine vnseemely Moodes passions fancies iealous fits Attend vpon her traine She yeeldeth rest without repose A heau'n in hellish paine Her house is slouth her doore deceite And slipperie hope her staires Vnbashfull boldnesse bids her guests And euery vice repaires Her diet is of such delight As please till they be past But then the poyson kils the hart That did entise the tast Her sleepe in sinne doth end in wrath Remorse rings her awake Death cals her vp shame driues her out Dispaires her vp-shot make Plowe not the Seas sowe not the sands Leaue off your idle paine Seeke other mistres for your minds Loues seruice is in vaine Life is but losse BY force I liue in will I wish to dye In plaint I passe the length of lingring dayes Free would my soule from mortall body flye And tread the tracke of deaths desired wayes Life is but losse where death is deemed gaine And loathed pleasures breede displeasing paine VVho would not dye to kill all murdering greeues Or who would liue in neuer dying feares VVho would not wish his treasure safe from theeues And quit his hart from pangues his eyes from teares Death parteth but two euer fighting foes VVhose ciuill strife doth worke our endlesse woes Life is a wandring course to doubtfull rest As oft a cursed ryse to damning leape As happie race to winne a heauenly crest None being sure what finall fruites to reape And who can like in such a life to dwell VVhose wayes are straite to heau'n but wyde to hell Come cruell death why lingrest thou so long VVhat doth withhold thy dint from fatall stroke Now prest I am alas thou doest me wrong To let me liue more anger to prouoke Thy right is had when thou hast stopt my breath VVhy should'st thou stay to worke my double death If Saules attempt in falling on his blade As lawfull were as ethe to put in vre If Sampsons leaue a common law were made Of Abels lot if all that would were sure Then cruell death thou should'st the tyrant play VVith none but such as wished for delay VVhere life is lou'd thou ready art to kill And to abridge with sodaine pangues their ioy VVhere life is loath'd thou wilt not worke their will But dost adiourne their death to their annoy To some thou art a fierce vnbidden guest But those that craue thy helpe thou helpest least Auant ô viper I thy spight defie There is a God that ouer-rules thy force VVho can thy weapons to his will apply And shorten or prolong our brittle course I on his mercie not thy might relye To him I liue for him I hope to dye I dye aliue O Life what lets thee from a quicke decease O death what drawes thee from a present pray My feast is done my soule would beat ease My grace is said ô death come take away I liue but such a life as euer dies I die but such a death as neuer ends My death to end my dying life denies And life my liuing death no whit amends Thus still I dye yet still I do reuiue My liuing death by dying life is fed Grace more then nature keepes my hart aliue VVhose idle hopes and vaine desires are dead Not where I breath but where I loue I liue Not where I loue but where I am I dye The life I wish must future glory giue The deathes I feele in present dangers lye What ioy to line I wage no warre yet peace I none enioy I hope I feare I fry in freezing cold I mount in mirth still prostrate in annoy I all the world embrace yet nothing hold All wealth is want where chiefest wishes faile Yea life is loath'd where loue may not preuaile For that I loue I long but that I lack That others loue I loath and that I haue All worldly fraights to me are deadly wrack Men present hap I future hopes doe craue They louing where they liue long life require To liue where best I loue death I desire Heere loue is lent for loane of filthy gaine Most friends befriend thēselues with friendships shew Heere plentie perril want doth breed disdaine Cares common are ioyes faulty short few Here honour enuide meanenes is dispis'd Sinne deemed solace vertue little pris'd Heere beauty is a baite that swallowed choakes A treasure sought still to the owners harmes A light that eyes to murdring sighs prouokes A grace that soules enchant with mortall charmes A luring ayme to Cupids fiery flights A balefull blisse that damnes where it delights O who would liue so many deaths to try VVhere will doth wish that wisedome doth reproue VVhere nature craues that grace must needs denie VVhere sence doth like that reason cannot loue VVhere best in shew in finall proofe is worst VVhere pleasures vpshot is to die accurst Lifes death loues life WHo liues in loue loues least to liue And long delayes doth rue If him he loue by whom he liues To whom all loue is due VVho for our loue did choose to liue And was content to die VVho lou'd our loue more then his life And loue with life did buy Let vs in life yea with our life Requite his liuing loue For best we liue when least we liue If loue our life remoue VVhere loue is hote life hatefull is Their grounds doe not agree Loue where it loues life where it liues Desireth most to be And sith loue is not where it liues Nor liueth where it loues Loue hateth life that holdes it backe And death it best approues For seldome is he wonne in life VVhom loue doth most desire If wonne by loue yet not inioyde Till mortall life expire Life out of earth hath not aboad In earth loue hath no place Loue setled hath her ioyes in heau'n In earth life all her grace Mourne therefore no true louers death Life onely him annoyes And when he taketh leaue of life Then loue beginnes his ioyes At home in Heauen FAire soule how long shall veyles thy graces shroud How long shall this exile with-hold thy right VVhen will thy sunne disperse this mortall cloud And giue thy glories scope to blaze their light O that a Starre more fit for Angels eyes Should pyne in earth not shyne aboue the skyes Thy ghostly beautie offred force to God It cheyn'd him in the linkes of tender loue It woon his will with man to make abode It stai'd his Sword and did his wrath remoue It made the rigor of his iustice yeeld And Crowned mercie Empresse of the feeld This lull'd our heauenly Sampson fast a sleepe And laid him in our feeble natures lap This made him vnder mortall load to creep And in our flesh his god-head to enwrap This made him soiourne with vs in exile And not disdayne our tytles in his
SAINT Peters complaynt With other Poems AT LONDON Printed by I. R. for G. C. 1595. The Printer to the Gentlemen Readers HAuing beheld kind Gentlemen the numberlesse Iudges of not to be reckoned labours with what kind admiration you haue entertained the Diuine Complaint of holy Peter and hauing in my hands certaine especiall Poems and diuine Meditations full as woorthie belonging to the same I thought it a charitable deede to giue them life in your memories which els should die in an obscure sacrifice gently embrace them gentle censurers of gentle indeuors so shall you not be fantastike in diuersity of opinions nor contradict your resolues by denying your former iudgements but still bee your selues discreetely vertuous nor could I other wish but that the courteous reader of these labors not hauing already bought Peters Complaint would not for so small a mite of money loose so rich a treasure of heauenly wisdome as these two Treatises should minister vnto him the one so needfully depending vpon the other One thing amongst the rest I am to admonish thee of that hauing in this Treatise read Maries visitation the next that should follow is Christs natiuity but being afore printed in the end of Peters Complaint we haue heere of purpose omitted that thou shouldest not be abridged of that and theother like comforts which that other treatise profereth thee Yours kind Gentlemen in all his abilities I. B. The Author to the Reader DEare eye that doest peruse my Muses style VVith easie censure deeme of my delight Giue sobrest countnance leaue sometime to smyle And grauest wits to take a breathing flight Of mirth to make a trade may be a crime But tyred spirites for mirth must haue a time The loftie Eagle soares not still aboue High flightes will force her from the wing to stoupe And studious thoughtes at times men must remoue Least by excesse before their time they droupe In courser studies t is a sweete repose VVith Poets pleasing vaine to temper prose Prophane conceits and fayning fits I flie Such lawlesse stuffe doth lawlesse speeches fit VVith Dauid verse to vertue I applie VVhose measure best with measured wordes doth fit It is the sweetest note that man can sing VVhen grace in vertues key tunes natures string The Author to the Reader DEare eye that daynest to let fall a looke On these sad memories of Peters plaints Muse not to see some mud in cleerest brooke They once were brittle mould that now are Saints Theyr weakenes is no warrant to offend Learne by their faults what in thine owne to mend If equities euen-hand the ballance held VVhere Peters sinnes and ours were made the weightes Ounce for his dramme Pound for his Ounce we yeeld His ship would groane to feele some sinners freightes So ripe is vice so greene is vertues bud The world doth waxe in ill but waine in good This makes my mourning Muse resolue in teares This theames my heauy penne to plaine in prose Christs Thorne is sharpe no head his Garland weares Still finest wits are stilling Venus Rose In paynim toyes the sweetest vaines are spent To Christian workes few haue their tallents lent Licence my single penne to seeke a pheere You heauenly sparkes of wit shew natiue light Cloud not with mistie loues your Orient cleere Sweet flights you shoote learne once to leuell right Fauour my wish well-wishing workes no ill I mooue the Suite the Graunt restes in your will SAINT PETERS Complaynt LAunch foorth my Soule into a maine of teares Full fraught with griefe the traffick of thy mind Torne sayles will serue thoughts rent with guilty feares Giue care the sterne vse sighes in lieu of wind Remorse thy Pilot thy misdeede thy Carde Torment thy Hauen Shipwracke thy best reward Shun not the shelfe of most deserued shame Sticke in the sandes of agonizing dread Contènt thee to be stormes and billowes game Diuorc'd from grace thy soule to pennance wed Flie not from forreine euils flie from thy hart VVorse then the worst of euils is that thou art Giue vent vnto the vapours of thy brest That thicken in the brimmes of cloudie eyes VVhere sinne was hatch'd let teares now wash the nest VVhere life was lost recouer life with cryes Thy trespasse foule let not thy teares be few Baptize thy spotted soule in weeping dewe Flie mournefull plaintes the Ecchoes of my ruth VVhose screeches in my freighted conscience ring Sob out my sorrowes fruites of mine vntruth Report the smart of sinnes infernall sting Tell hartes that languish in the soriest plight There is on earth a farre more sorry wight A sorry wight the obiect of disgrace The monument of feare the map of shame The mirrour of mishap the staine of place The scorne of time the infamy of fame An excrement of earth to heauen hatefull Iniurious to man to God vngratefull Ambitious heades dreame you offortunes pride Fill volumes with your forged Goddesse prayse You fancies drudges plung'd in follies tide Deuote your fabling wits to louers layes Be you ô sharpest griefes that euer wrung Texte to my thoughtes Theame to my playning tung Sad subiect of my sinne hath stoard my minde VVith euerlasting matter of complaint My threnes an endlesse Alphabet do finde Beyond the panges which Ieremy doth paint That eyes with errors may iust measure keepe Most teares I wish that haue most cause to weepe All weeping eyes resigne your teares to me A sea will scantly rince my ordur'de soule Huge horrours in high tides must drowned bee Of euery teare my crime exacteth tole These staines are deepe few drops take out no such Euen salue with sore and most is not too much I fear'd with life to die by death to liue I left my guide now left and leauing God To breath in blisse I fear'd my breath to giue I fear'd for heauenly raigne an earthly rod. These feares I fear'd feares feeling no mishaps O fond ô faint ô false ô faultie laps How can I liue that thus my life deni'd VVhat can I hope that lost my hope in feare VVhat trust to one that truth it selfe defi'de VVhat good in him that did his God forsweare O sinne of sinnes of euils the very worst O matchlesse wretch ô catiffe most accurst Vaine in my vaunts I vowd if friends had fail'd Alone Christs hardest fortunes to abide Giant in talke like dwarfe in triall quaild Excelling none but in vntruth and pride Such distance is betweene high words and deeds In proofe the greatest vaunter seldome speedes Ah rashnes hastie ryse to murdering leape Lauish in vowing blind in seeing what Soone sowing shames that long remorse must reape Nurcing with teares that ouer-sight begat Scout of repentance harbinger of blame Treason to wisedome mother of ill name The borne-blind begger for receiued sight Fast in his faith and loue to Christ remain'd Hee stouped to no feare he feard no might No change his choice no threats his truth distain'd One wonder wrought him in his dutie sure I after thousands did my Lord
abiure Could seruile feare of rendring natures due VVhich growth in yeeres was shortly like to claime So thrall my loue that I should thus eschue A vowed death and misse so faire an ayme Die die disloyall wretch thy life detest For sauing thine thou hast forsworne the best Ah life sweet drop drownd in a sea of sowers A flying good posting to doubtfull end Still loosing months and yeeres to gaine new howers Faine time to haue and spare yet forst to spend Thy growth decrease a moment all thou hast That gone ere knowne the rest to come or past Ah life the maze of countlesse straying waies Open to erring steps and strow'd with baits To winde weake sences into endlesse strayes A loofe from vertues rough vnbeaten straights A flower a play a blast a shade a dreame A liuing death a neuer turning streame And could I rate so high a life so base Did feare with loue cast so vneuen account That for this goale I should runne Iudas race And Caiphas rage in crueltie surmount Yet they esteemed thirtie pence his price I worse then both for nought deny'd him thrise The mother sea from ouerflowing deepes Sends forth her issue by diuided vaines Yet backe her of-spring to theyr mother creepes To pay theyr purest streames with added gaines But I that drunke the drops of heauenly flud Bemyr'd the gyuer with returning mud Is this the haruest of his sowing toyle Did Christ manure thy hart to breed him bryers Or doth it need this vnaccustomd soyle VVith hellish dunge to fertile heauens desires No no the Marle that periuries doth yeeld May spoyle a good not fat a barraine field VVas this for best deserts the duest meede Are highest worthes well wag'de with spitefull hire Are stoutest vowes repeal'd in greatest neede Should friendship at the first affront retire Blush crauen sott lurke in eternall night Crouch in the darkest caues from loathed light Ah wretch why was I nam'd sonne of a doue VVhose speeches voyded spight and breathed gall No kin I am vnto the bird of loue My stony name much better sutes my fall My othes were stones my cruell tongue the sling My God the marke at which my spight did fling VVere all the Iewish tiranies too few To glut thy hungry lookes with his disgrace That thou more hatefull tirannies must shew And spit thy poyson in thy Makers face Didst thou to spare his foes put vp thy sword To brandish now thy tongue against thy Lord Ah tongue that didst his prayse and Godhead sound How wert thou stain'd with such detesting words That euery word was to his hart a wound And launst him deeper then a thousand swordes VVhat rage of man yea what infernall spirite Could haue disgorg'd more loathsome dregs of spite VVhy did the yeelding sea like marble way Support a wretch more wauering then the waues VVhom doubt did plunge why did the water stay Vnkind in kindnesse murthering while it saues O that this toung had then been fishes food And I deuour'd before this cursing moode Their surges depthes and seas vnfirme by kinde Rough gusts and distance both from ship and shoare VVere titles to excuse my staggering minde Stout feete might falter on that liquid floare But here no seas no blastes no billowes were A puffe of womans winde bred all my feare O coward troupes far better arm'd then harted VVhom angry words whom blowes could not prouok VVhom though I taught how sore my weapon smarted Yet none repaide me with a wounding stroke O no that stroke could but one moitie kill I was reseru'd both halfes at once to spill Ah whether was forgotten loue exilde VVhere did the truth of pledged promise sleepe VVhat in my thoughts begat this ougly child That could through rented soule thus fircely creepe O viper feare their death by whom thou liuest All good thy ruynes wrecke all euels thou giuest Threats threw me not torments I none assayde My fray with shades conceits dyd make me yeeld VVounding my thoughts with feares selfely dismayd I neyther fought nor lost I gaue the field Infamous foyle a Maidens easie breath Dyd blow me downe and blast my soule to death Titles I make vntruths am I a rocke That with so soft a gale was ouer-throwne Am I fit Pastor for the faithfull flocke To guide theyr soules that murdred thus mine owne A rock of ruine not a rest to stay A Pastor not to feed but to betray Fidelitie was flowne when feare was hatched Incompatible brood in vertues nest Courage can lesse with cowardise be matched Prowesse nor loue lodg'd in deuided brest O Adams child cast by a sillie Eue Heire to thy Fathers foyles and borne to greeue In Thabors ioyes I eger was to dwell An earnest friend while pleasures light did shine But when ecclipsed glory prostrate fell These zealous heates to sleepe I did resigne And now my mouth hath thrise his name defil'd That cry'd so loud three dwellings there to build VVhen Christ attending the distressefull hower VVith his surcharged brest did blesse the ground Prostrate in pangs rayning a bleeding shower Me like my selfe a drowsie friend he found Thrise in his care sleepe closde my carelesse eye Presage how him my tongue should thrise deny Parting from Christ my fainting force declin'd VVith lingring foote I followed him a loofe Base feare out of my hart his loue vnshrind Huge in high words but impotent in proofe My vaunts did seeme hatcht vnder Sampsons locks Yet womans wordes did giue me murdring knocks So farre luke warme desires in crasie loue Farre off in neede with feeble foote they trayne In tydes they swimme low ebbes they scorne to proue They seeke their friends delights but shun their paine Hire of a hireling minde is earned shame Take now thy due beare thy begotten blame Ah coole remisnes vertues quartane feuer Pyning of loue consumption of grace Old in the cradle languor dying euer Soules wilfull famine sinnes soft stealing pace The vndermining euill of zealous thought Seeming to bring no harmes till all be brought O portresse of the doore of my disgrace VVhose toung vnlockt the truth of vowed minde VVhose wordes from cowardes hart did courage chase And let in death-full feares my soule to blinde O hadst thou been the portresse to my tombe VVhen thou wert portresse to that cursed roome Yet loue was loath to part feare loath to die Stay daunger life did counterplead their causes I fauouring stay and life bad daunger flie But daunger did except against these clauses Yet stay and liue I would and daunger shunne And lost my selfe while I my verdict wonne I stayde yet did my staying farthest part I liu'd but so that sauing life I lost it Daunger I shun'd but to my sorer smart I gayned nought but deeper domage crost it VVhat daunger distance death is worse then this That runnes from God and spoyles his soule of blisse O Iohn my guide into this earthly hell Too well acquainted in so ill a court VVhere rayling mouthes with
blasphemies did swell VVith taynted breath infecting all resort VVhy didst thou lead me to this hell of euills To shew my selfe a fiend among the diuels Euill president the tyde that wafts to vice Dumme Orator that woes with silent deedes VVriting in workes lessons of ill aduise The doing tale that eye in practise reedes Taster of ioyes to vnacquainted hunger VVith leauen of the olde seasoning the yonger It seemes no fault to doe that all haue done The number of offenders hides the sinne Coatch drawne with many horse doth easely runne Soone followeth one where multitudes begin O had I in that court much stronger bin Or not so strong as first to enter in Sharpe was the weather in that stormie place Best suting hearts benum'd with hellish frost VVhose crusted malice could admit no grace VVhere coales were kindled to the warmers cost VVhere feare my thoughts canded with ysie colde Heate did my tongue to periuries vnfolde O hatefull fire ah that I euer saw it Too hard my hart was frozen for thy force Farre hotter flames it did require to thawe it Thy hell resembling heate did freeze it worse O that I rather had congeal'd to yse Then bought thy warm'th at such a damning price O wakefull bird proclaimer of the day VVhose piercing note doth daunt the Lions rage Thy crowing did my selfe to me bewray My frights and brutish heates it did aswage But ô in this alone vnhappie cocke That thou to count my foyles wert made the clocke O bird the iust rebuker of my crime The faithfull waker of my sleeping feares Be now the daylie clocke to strike the time VVhen stinted eyes shall pay their taske of teares Vpbraide mine eares with thine accusing crow To make me rew that first it made me know O milde reuenger of aspiring pride Thou canst dismount high thoughts to low effects Thou mad'st a cocke me for my fault to chide My lofty boastes this lowlie bird corrects VVell might a cocke correct me with a crow VVhom hennish cackling first did ouer-throw VVeake weapons did Golias fumes abate VVhose storming rage did thunder threates in vaine His bodie huge harnest with massie plate Yet Dauids stone brought death into his braine VVith staffe and sling as to a dog he came And with contempt did boasting fury tame Yet Dauid had with Beare and Lyon fought His skilfull might excusd Golias foyle The death is easd that worthy hand hath wrought Some honour liues in honorable spoile But I on whom all infamies must light VVas hisd to death with wordes of womens spight Small gnats enforst th' Egiptian king to stoupe Yet they in swarmes and arm'd with piercing stings Smart noyse annoyance made his courage droupe No small incombrance such small vermine brings I quaild at words that neither bit nor stoung And those deliuered from a womans toung Ah feare abortiue impe of drouping mind Selfe ouer-throw false friend root of remorce Sighted in seeing euils in shunning blind Foyld without field by fancie not by force Ague of valour phrensie of the wise True honours staine loues frost the mint of lies Can vertue wisedome strength by women spild In Dauids Salomons and Sampsons falls VVith semblance of excuse my errour guild Or lend a marble glose to muddy walles O no their fault had show of some pretence No veyle can hide the shame of my offence The blaze of beauties beames allur'd their lookes Their lookes by seeing oft conceiued loue Loue by affecting swallowed pleasures hookes Thus beautie loue and pleasure them did mooue These Syrens sugred tunes rockt them a sleepe Enough to damne yet not to damne so deepe But gratious features dazeled not mine eies Two homely droyles were authors of my death Not loue but feare my sences did surprize Not feare of force but feare of womans breath And those vnarm'd ill grac'd despisd vnknowne So base a blast my truth hath ouer-throwne O women woe to men traps for their fals Still actors in all tragicall mischances Earthes necessarie euils captiuing thralls Now murdring with your tongs now with your glances Parents of life and loue spoylers of both The theeues of harts false do you loue or loth In time ô Lord thine eyes with mine did meete In them I reade the ruines of my fall Their chearing raies that made misfortune sweete Into my guiltie thoughts pourd floods of gall Their heauenly lookes that blest where they beheld Darts of disdaine and angrie checks did yeeld O sacred eyes the springs of liuing light The earthly heauens where Angels ioy to dwell How could you deigne to view my deathfull plight Or let your heauenly beames looke on my hell But those vnspotted eyes encountred mine As spotlesse Sunne doth on the dounghill shine Sweet volumes stoard with learning fit for Saints VVhere blisfull quires imparadize their minds VVherein eternall studie neuer faints Still finding all yet seeking all it finds How endlesse is your laborinth of blisse VVhere to be lost the sweetest finding is Ah wretch how oft haue I sweet lessons read In those deare eyes the registers of truth How oft haue I my hungrie wishes fed And in their happie ioyes redress'd my ruth Ah that they now are Heralds of disdaine That erst were euer pittiers of my paine You flames diuine that sparkle out your heats And kindle pleasing fires in mortall hearts You nectar'd Aumbryes of soule feeding meates You gracefull quiuers of loues deerest darts You did vouchsafe to warme to wound to feast My cold my stony my now famishd brest The matchles eyes match'd onely each by other VVere pleasd on my ill matched eyes to glaunce The eye of liquid pearle the purest mother Broch'd teares in mine to weepe for my mischance The cabinets of grace vnlockt their treasure And did to my misdeed their mercies measure These blazing Comets lightning flames of loue Made me their warming influence to know My frozen hart theyr sacred force did proue VVhich at their lookes did yeeld like melting snow They did not ioyes in former plentie carue Yet sweet are crums where pined thoughts do starue O liuing mirrours seeing whom you shew which equall shadows worths with shadowed things Yea make things nobler then in natiue hew By being shap'd in those life-gyuing springs Much more my image in those eyes was grac'd Then in my selfe whom sinne and shame defac'd All-seeing eyes more worth then all you see Of which one is the others onely price I worthlesse am direct your beames on mee VVith quickning vertue cure my killing vice By seeing things you make things worth the sight You seeing salue and beeing seene delight O Pooles of Hesebon the bathes of grace VVhere happy spirits diue in sweet desires VVhere Saints reioyce to glasse theyr glorious face VVhose banks make Eccho to the Angels quires An Eccho sweeter in the sole rebound Then Angels musick in the fullest sound O eyes whose glaunces are a silent speech In ciphred words high misteries disclosing VVhich with a looke all Sciences can
age how Christ his childhood spent All earthly pennes vnworthy were to write Such acts to mortall eyes he did present VVhose worth not men but Angels must recite No natures blots no childish faults defilde VVhere grace was guide and God did play the childe In springing locks lay couched hoarie wit In semblance young a graue and auncient port In lowly lookes high Maiestie did sit In tender tongue sound sence of sagest sort Nature imparted all that shee could teach And God supplied where nature could not reach His mirth of modest meane a mirrour was His sadnesse tempered with a milde aspect His eye to try each action was a glas VVhose lookes did good approue and bad correct His natures gifts his grace his word and deede VVell shewed that all did from a God proceede A child my choyse LEt folly praise that fancie loues I praise and loue that child Whose hart no thought whose tong no word whose hand no deed defild I praise him most I loue him best all praise and loue is his While him I loue in him I liue and cannot liue amisse Loues sweetest mark lawdes highest theme mans most desired light To loue him life to leaue him death to liue in him delight He mine by gift I his by debt thus each to others due First friend he was best friend he is all times will try him true Though young yet wise though smal yet strong though man yet God he is As wise he knowes as strong he can as God he loues to blisse His knowledge rules his strength defends his loue doth cherish all His birth our ioye his life our light his death our end of thrall Alas he weepes he sighes he pants yet doo his Angels sing Out of his teares his sighes and throbs doth buda ioyfull spring Almightie babe whose tender armes can force all foes to flie Correct my faults protect my life direct me when I die Content and rich IDwell in graces court Enrich'd with vertues rights Faith guides my wit loue leades my will Hope all my mind delights In lowly vales I mount To pleasures highest pich My seely shrowd true honor brings My poore estate is rich My conscience is my crowne Contented thoughts my rest My hart is happie in it selfe My blisse is in my brest Enough I reckon welth A meane the surest lot That lies too high for base contempt Too low for enuies shot My wishes are but few All easie to fulfill I make the limites of my power The bondes vnto my will I haue no hopes but one VVhich is of heauenly raigne Effects attaind or not desir'd All lower hopes resraine I feele no care of coyne VVeldoing is my welth My minde to me an empire is VVhile grace affordeth health I clyp high-clyming thoughts The wings of swelling pride Their fall is worst that from the hight Of greatest honour slide Sith sayles of largest size The storme doth soonest teare I beare so low and small a sayle As freeth me from feare I wrastle not with rage VVhile furies flame doth burne It is in vaine to stop the streame Vntill the tide doth turne But when the flame is out and ebbing wrath doth end I turne a late enraged foe Into a quiet friend And taught with often proofe A tempered calme I finde To be most solace to it selfe Best cure for angrie minde Spare diet is my fare My clothes more fit then fine I know I feede and cloth a foe That pamp'red would repine I enuie not their happe VVhom fauour doth aduance I take no pleasure in their paine That haue lesse happie chance To rise by others fall I deeme a loosing gaine All states with others ruines built To ruine runne a-maine No change of fortunes calmes Can cast my comforts downe VVhen fortune smiles I smile to thinke How quickly shee will frowne And when in froward moode She proues an angrie foe Small gaine I found to let her come Lesse losse to let her goe Losse in delayes SHun delayes they breed remorse Take thy time while time doth serue thee Creeping Snayles haue weakest force Flie theyr fault least thou repent thee Good is best when soonest wrought Lingring labours come to nought Hoise vp saile while gale doth last Tide and wind stay no mans pleasure Seeke not time when time is past Sober speede is wisedomes leysure After wits are dearely bought Let thy fore-wit guide thy thought Time weares all his lockes before Take thou hold vpon his fore-head VVhen he flies he turnes no more And behind his scalpe is naked VVorkes aiournd haue many stayes Long demurres breede new delayes Seeke thy salue while sore is greene Festred wounds aske deeper launcing After cures are seldome seene Often sought scarce euer chauncing Time and place giue best aduise Out of season out of prise Crush the Serpent in the head Breake ill egges ere they be hatched Kill bad Chickins in the tread Fligge they hardly can be catched In the rysing stifle ill Least it grow against thy will Drops doe pierce the stubborne flint Not by force but often falling Custome kils with feeble dint More by vse then strength preuailing Single sands haue little waight Many make a drowning fraight Tender twigs are bent with ease Aged trees doe breake with bending Young desires make little prease Growth doth make them past amending Happy man that soone doth knock Bable babes against the rocke Loues seruile Lot LOue mistris is of many minds Yet few know whom they serue They reckon least how little loue Theyr seruice doth deserue The will shee robbeth from the wit The sence from reasons lore Shee is delightfull in the rine Corrupted in the core Shee shroudeth vice in vertues vaile Pretending good in ill Shee offereth ioy affoordeth griefe A kisse where shee doth kill A honny shower raines from her lyps Sweet lights shine in her face Shee hath the blush of virgine mind The minde of Vipers race She makes thee seek yet feare to find To find but not enioy In many frownes some gliding smiles Shee yeelds to more anoy She wooes thee to come neere her fire Yet doth shee draw it from thee Farre off she makes thy hart to frie And yet to freeze within thee Shee letteth fall some luring baits For fooles to gather vp Too sweet too sowre to euery tast Shee tempereth her cup. Soft soules she bindes in tender twist Small Flyes in spinners webbe Shee sets a floote some luring streames But makes them soone to ebbe Her watrie eyes haue burning force Her floods and flames conspire Teares kindle sparkes sobbes fuell are And sighes doe blow her fire May neuer was the Month 〈…〉 oue For May is full of flowers But rather Aprill wet by kind For loue is full of showers Like tyrant cruell wounds she giues Like Surgeon salue shee lends But salue and sore haue equall force For death is both their ends VVith soothing wordes inthralled soules Shee chaines in seruile bands Her eye in silence hath a speach VVhich eye best vnderstands Her