heaven at last will grant thee thy desire THE ARGVMENT The second time was Ionah sent To Niniveh now Ionah went Against her crying 〈…〉 cry'd And her destruction propâ—â—â—y'd Sect. 8. ONce more the voyce of heavens high-CoÌ„mander Like horrid claps of heav'ns-dividing thunder Or like the fall of waters breach the noise Bâ—ing heard farre distant off such was the voyce Came downe from heav'n to Ionah new-borne-MaÌ„ To re-baptized Ionah and thus began Am I a God Or art thou ought but Dust More than a man Or are my Lawes unjust Am I a God and shall I not command Art thou a man and dâ—r'st my Lawes withstand Shall I the motion of whose breath shall make Both earth and Sea and Hell and Heaven quake By thee fond man shall I be thus neglected And thy presumption scape uncorrected Thy faith hath sav'd thee Ionah Sin no more Lest worse things happen after than before Arise let all th' assembled pow'rs agree To doe th'Embassage I impose on thee Trifle no more and to avoid my sight Thinke not to baulke me with a second flight Arise and goe to Niniveh the great Where broods of Gentiles have ta'ne up their seat The great Queene regent mother of the Lâ—nd That multiplies in people like the sand Away with wings of time I 'le not essoyne thee Denounce these fiery Iudgements I enjoyne thee Like as a youngling that to schoole is sent Scarce weaned from his mothers blandishment Where he was cockerd with a stroking hand With stubborne heart denyes the just command His Tutor wils But being once corrected His home-bred stomack 's curb'd or quite ejected His crooked nature 's chang'd and mollifi'd And humbly seekes what stoutly he deny'd So Ionah's stout perverse and stubborne heart Was hardned once but when it felt the smart Of heav'ns avenging wrath it straight dissolv'd And what it once avoyded now resolv'd T' effect with speed and with a carefull hand Fully replenish'd with his Lords Command To Ninivâ—h he flyeth like a Roe Each step the other strives to overgoe And as an Arrow to the marke does flie So bent to flight flies he to Niniveh ¶ Now Niniveh a might Citie was Which all the Cities of the world did passe A Citie which o're all the rest aspires Like midnight Phoebe 'mongst the lesser fires A Citie which although to men was given Better beseem'd the Majestie of Heaven A City Great to God whose ample wall Who undertakes to mete with paces shall Bring Phoebus thrice to bed ere it be done Although with dawning Hesperus begun When Ionas hath approacht the City gate He made no stay to rest nor yet to bait No supple oyle his fainting head anoints Stayes not to bathe his weather-beaten joynts Nor smooth'd his countenance nor slick ' his skin Nor craved he the Hostage of an Inne To ease his aking bones with travell sore But went as speedy as he fled before The Cities greatnesse made him not refuse To be the trump of that unwelcome newes His tongue was great with But like thuÌ„ders noise His mouth flew ope and out there rusht a voyce When dewy-cheek't Aurora shall display Her golden locks and summon up the day Twice twenty times and rest her drowzy head Twice twenty nights in aged Tithons bed Then Niniveh this place of high renowne Shall be destroy'd and sackt and batterd downe He sate not downe to take deliberation What maner people were they or what Nation Or Gent ' or Salvage nor did he enquier What place were most convenient for a Cryer Nor like a sweet-lipt Orator did steare Or tune his language to the peoples eare But bold and rough yet full of Majesty Lift up his trumpet and began to cry When forty times Don Phoebus shall fulfill His Iournall course upon th' Olympian Hill Then Niniveh the Worlds great wonder shall Startle the Worlds foundation with her fall The dismall Prophet stands not to admire The Cities pompe or peoples quaint attire Nor yet with fond affection doth pity Th' approaching downfall of so brave a City But dauntlesse he his dreadfull voice extends Respectlesse whom this bolder cry offends When forty daies shall be expir'd and run And that poore Inch of time drawne out and done Then Niniveh the Worlds Imperiall throne Sall not be left a stone upon a stone Meditat. 8. BVt stay Is God like one of us Can he When he hath said it alter his Decree Can he that is the God of Truth dispence With what he vow'd or offer violence Vpon his sacred Iustice Can his minde Revolt at all or vary like the winde How comes this alteration then that He Thus limiting the' effect of his Decree Vpon the expiring date of forty daies He then performes it not But still delaies His plagues denounc't Iudgement stil forbeares And stead of forty dayes gives many yeares Yet forty dayes and Niniveh shall perish Yet forty yeares and Niniveh doth flourish A change in man's infirme in God 't is strange In God to change his Will and will a Change Are divers things When he repents from ill He wils a change he changes not his Will The subject's chang'd which secret was to us But not the mind that did dispose it thus Denounced Iudgement God doth oft prevent But neither changes counsell not intent The voyce of heâ—â—en doth seldome threat perdition But with expresse or an imply'd condition So that if Niniveh returne from ill God turnes his hand he doth not turne his Will ¶ The stint of Niniveh was forty dayes To change the By as of her crooked wayes To some the time is large To others small To some 't is many yeares And not at all To others Some an houre have and some Have scarce a minute of their time to come Thy span of life Malfidâ— is thy space To call for mercy and to cry for grace ¶ Lord what is man but like a worme that crawles Open to danger every foote that fals Death creepes unheard and steals abroad unseen Her darts are sudden and her arrowes keene Vncertaine when but certaine she will strike Respecting King and Begger both alike The stroke is deadly come it soone or late Which once being strucke repenting's out of date Death is a minute full of sudden sorrow Then live to day as thou maist die to morrow THE ARGVMENT The Ninivites beleeve the word Their hearts returne unto the Lord In him they put their onely trust They mourne is Sackcloth and in dust Sect. 9. SO said the Ninivites beleev'd the Word Beleeved Ionas and beleev'd the Lord They made no pause nor jested aâ— the newes Nor slighted it because it was a Iew 's Denouncement No nor did their gazing eyes As taken captive with such novelties Admire the strangers garb so quaint to theirs No idle chat possest their itching eares The whil'st he spake nor were their tongues on fier To raile upon or interrupt the Cryer Nor did they question whether true the message Or false the Prophet were that
Within the bosome of his holiest works Some hidden Embers of old Adaâ— lurkes Which oftentimes in men of purest wayes Burst out in flame and for a season blaze ¶ Lord teach our hearts and give our soules directions Subdue our passions curb our stout affections Nip thou the bud before the bloome begins Lord shield thy servants from presumptuous sins THE ARGVMENT A Booth for shelter Ionaâ— made God sent a Gourd for better shade But by the next approching light God sent a Worme consum'd it quite Sect. 12. SO Ionah sore opprest and heavie-hearted From out the Cities circuit straight departed Departed to the Easterne borders of it Where sicke with anguish sate this sullen Prophet He built a Booth and in the Booth he sate Vntill some few dayes had expir'd their date With over-tedious pace where he might see What would betide to threatned Nineveh A trunke that wanteth sap is soone decay'd The slender Booth of boughes and branches made Soone yeelding to the Sun's consuming Ray Crumbled to dust and early dry'd away Whereat the great Iehovah spake the word And over Ionah's head there sprang a Gourd Whose roots were fixt within the quickning earth Which gave it nourishment as well as birth God raised up a Gourd a Gourd should last Let winde or scorching Sun or blow or blast As coales of fier rak'd in embers lye Obscure and undiscerned by the eye But being stirr'd regaine a glimm'ring light Revive and glow burning afresh and bright So Ionah 'gan to cheere through this reliefe And joyfull was devoyded all his griefe He joy'd to see that God had not forgot His drooping servant and forsooke him not He joy'd in hope the Gourds strange wonder will Perswade the people hee 's a Prophet still The fresh aspect did much refresh his sight The herball savour gave his sense delight Thus Ionah much delighted in his Gourd Enjoy'd the pleasures that it did affoord But Lord what earthly thing can long remaine How momentany are they and how vaine How vaine is earth that man 's delighted in it Her pleasures rise and vanish in a minit How fleeting are the joyes we finde below Whose tides uncertaine oftner ebbe than flow For see this Gourd that was so faire and sound Is quite consum'd and eaten to the ground No sooner Titan had up-heav'd his head From off the pillow of his Saffron bed But heav'n prepar'd a silly silly worme Perchance brought thither by an Eastern storme The worme that must obey and well knew how Consum'd the Gourd nor left it root nor bough Consum'd it straight within a minutes space Left nought but sleeping Ionas in the place Medit. 12. ¶ THe pleasures of the world which soon abate Are lively Emblemes of our owne estate Which like a Banquet at a Fun'rall show But sweeten griefe and serve to flatter woe ¶ Pleasure is fleeting still and makes no stay It lends a smile or twaine and steales away ¶ Man's life is fickle full of winged haste It mockes the sense with joy and soone does waste ¶ Pleasure does crown thy youth Iuls thy wants But sullen age approaching straight avaunts ¶ Man's life is joy and sorrow seekes to banish It doth lament and mourne in age and vanish ¶ The time of pleasure 's like the life of Man Both joyfull both contained in a span Both highly priz'd and both on sudden lost When most we trust them they deceive us most What fit of madnesse makes us love them thus We leave our lives and pleasure leaveth us Why what is pleasure But a golden dreame Which waking makes our waÌ„ts the more extreme And what is Life A bubble full of care Which prickt by death straight empties into ayre The flowers clad in farre more rich aray Than e're was Salomon doe soone decay What thing more sweet or fairer then a flowre And yet it bloomes and fades within an houre What greater pleasure then a rising Sun Yet is this pleasure every evening done But thou art heyre to Croesus and thy treasure Being great and endlesse endlesse is thy pleasure But thou thou Croesus heyre consider must Thy wealth and thou came from and goes to dust Another's noble and his name is great And takes his place vpon a lofty seat True 't is but yet his many wants are such That better 't were he were not knowne so much Another binds his soule in Hymens knot His Spouse is chast unblemisht with a spot But yet his comfort is bedasht and done His grounds are stockt and now he wants a sonne ¶ How fickle and unconstant's Mans estate Man fain would have but then he knows not what And having rightly knowes not how to prize it But like that foolish Dunghill-cock imployes it But who desires to live a life content Wherein his Cruze of joy shall ne're be spent With fierce pursuit let him that good desire Whose date no change no fortune can expire For that 's not worth the craving to obtaine A happinesse that must be lost againe Nor that which most doe covet most is best Best are the goods mixt with contented rest Gasp not for honour wish no blazing glory For these will perish in an ages story Nor yet for power power may be carv'd To fooles as well as thee that hast deserv'd Thirst not for Lands nor Money wish for none For wealth is neither lasting nor our owne Riches are faire inticements to deceive us They flatter while we live and dying leave us THE ARGVMENT Ionas desires to die the Lord Rebukes him be maintaines his word His anger hee doth justifie God pleads the cause for Ninevie Sect. 13. WHen ruddy Phoebus had with morning light Subdu'd the East put the stars to flight Heav'ns hand prepar'd a servent Easterne winde Whose drought together with the Sun combin'd The one as bellowes blowing t'others fire With strong united force did both conâ—pire To make assault upon the fainting head Of helplesse Ionah that was well nye dead Who turning oft and tossing to and fro As they that are in torments use to doe And restlesse finding no successe of ease But rather that his tortures still encrease His secret passion to his soule betraid Craving no sweeter boone then death and said O kill me Lord or loe my heart will rive For better 't is for me to dye than live So said The Lord did interrupt his passion And said How now is this a seemely fashion Doth it become my servants heart to swell Can anger helpe thee Ionah dost thou well Is this a â—it speech or a well-plac'd word What art thou angry Ionah for a Gourd What if th' Arabians with their ruder traine Had kild thine Oxen and thy Cattell slâ—ine What if consuming fier falne from heaven Had all thy servants of their lives bereaven And burnt thy sheepe What if by strong oppression The Chaldees had usurp'd unjust possession Vpon thy Camels Or had Boreas blowne His full-mouth'd blast and cast thy houses downe And slâ—ine thy sonnes amid
it Eyes â—ands and armes tongues eares and hearts of men Sing praise and let the people say Amen ¶ Tune you your Instruments and let them vary Praise him upon them in his Sanctuary Praise him within the highest Firmament Which shewes his Power and his Government Praise him for all his mighty Acts are knowne And suit thy praises to his high Renowne Praise him with Trump victorious shrill sharpe With Psaltry lowd and many-stringed Harpe With sounding Timbrell and the warbling Flute With Musicks full Interpreter the Lute Praise him upon the Maiden Virginalls Vpon the Clerick Organs and Cymballs Vpon the sweet Majestick Vyalls touch Double your joyes and let your prayse be such Let all in whom is life and breath give praise To heav'ns eternall God in endlesse dayes Let every Soule to whom a voyce is given Sing Holy Holy Holy Lord of Heaven For loe a Lambe is found that undertooke To break the seven-fold-Seale ope the BOOK◠¶ O let my life adde number to my dayes To shew thy glory and to sing thy praise Let every minute in thy praise be spent Let every head be bare and knee be bent To thee deare Lambe Who ere thy praises hide Clos'd be his Lippes and tongue for ever ty'de Hallelujah Gloria DEO in excelsis ELEVEN PIOVS Meditations 1. ¶ WIthin the holy Legend I discover Three speciall Attributes of God his Power His Iustice and his Mercy All uncreated Eternall all and all unseparated From Gods pure Essence and from thence proceeding All very God All perfect All exceeding And from that selfe-same text three names I gather Of great lehova Lord and God and Father The first denotes him mounted on his Throne In Power Majesty Dominion The second shewes him on his kingly Bench Rewarding Evill with equall punishments The third describes him on his Mercy-seat Full great in Grace and in his Mercy great ¶ All three I worship and before all three My heart shall humbly prostrate with my knee But in my private choice I fancy rather Then call him Lord or God to call him Father 2. ¶ IN hell no Life in heaven no Death there is In earth both Life and Death both Bale and Blis In Heaven 's all Life no end nor new supplying In hell 's all Death and yet there is no dying Earth like a partiall Ambidexter doth Prepare for Death or Life prepares for both Who lives to sinne in Hell his portion 's given Who dyes to sinne shall after live in Heaven ¶ Though Earth my Nurse be Heaven bee thou my Father Ten thousand deaths let me endure rather Within my Nurses armes then One to Thee Earths honour with thy frownes is death to mee I live on Earth as on a Stage of sorrow Lord if thou pleasest end the Play to morrow I live on Earth as in a Dreame of pleasure Awake me when thou wilt I wait thy leisure I live on Earth but as of life bereaven My life 's with thee for Lord thou art in Heaven 3. NOthing that e'r was made was made for nothing Beasts for thy food their skins were for thy clothing Flowers for thy smell and â—earbs for Cure good Trees for thy shade Their Fruit for pleasing Food The showers fall upon the fruitfull ground Whose kindly Dew makes tender Grasse abound The Grasse springs forth for beasts to feed upon And Beasts are food for Man but Man alone Is made to serve his Lord in all his wayes And be the Trumpet of his Makers praise ¶ Let Heav'n be then to me obdure as brasse The Earth as iron unapt for graine or grasse Then let my Flocks consume and never steed mee Let pinching Famine want wherewith to feed mee When I forget to honour thee my Lord Thy glorious Attributes thy Workes thy Word O let the Trump of thine eternall Fame Teach us to answer Hallow'd be thy Name 4. ¶ GOd built the World and all that therein is He framed yet how poore a part is his Quarter the Earth and see how small a rome Is stiled with the name of Christeâ— dome The rest through blinded ignorance rebels O're-runne with Pagans Turkes and Infidels Nor yet is all this little quarter his For though all know him halfe know him amisse Professing Chrâ—â—â— for lucre as they lâ—st And serve the triple Crowne of Anâ—â—â—hrist Yet is this little handfull much made lesser There 's many Lâ—â—ertines for one Prâ—fessour Nor doe Professours all professe aright ' Mong ' whom there often lurks an Hypocrite ¶ O where and what 's thy Kingdome blessed God Where is thy Scepter where 's thine iron Rod Reduce thy reck'nings to their totall summe O let thy Power and thy kingdome come 5. ¶ MAN in himselfe 's a little World Alone His Soul 's the Court or high Imperiall throne Wherein as Empresse sits the Vnderstanâ—ing Gently directing yet with awe Commanding Her Handmaid's will Affections Maids of Honour All following close and duely waiting on her But Sin that alwayes envi'd mans Condition Within this Kingdome raised up Division Withdrawne the Will and brib'd the false Affection That This no order hath nor That Election The Will proves Traitor to the Vnderstanding Reason hath lost her power and left commanding She 's quite depos'd and put to foule disgrace And Tyrant Passion now usurps her place ¶ Vouchsafe Lord in this little World of mine To raigne that I may raigne with Thee in thine And since my Will is quite of good bereaven Thy will be done in earth as 't is in Heaven 6 ¶ WHo live to sin are all but theeves to hearÌ„ And Earth They steale froÌ„ God take ungiveÌ„ Good men they rob such as live upright And being bastards share the freemans Right They 're all as owners in the owners stead And like to Dogs devoure the childrens bread They have and lacke and want that they possesse Vnhappy most in their most happinesse They are not goods but riches that they wast And not beâ—ng goods to ev'ls they turne at last ¶ Lord what I have let me enjoy in thee And thee in it or else take it from mee My store or want make thou or fade or flourish So shall my comforts neither change nor perish That little I enjoy Lord make it mine In making mee that am a Sinner thine 'T is thou or none that shall supply my need Great God Give us this day our daily bread 7. ¶ THe quick conceited Schoole-men doe approve A difference 'twixt Charity and Love Love is a vertue whereby we explaine Our selves to God and God to us againe But Charitie 's imparted to our Brother Whereby we trafficke one man with another The first extends to God The last belongs To Man in giving right and bearing wrongs In number they are twaine In vertue one For one not truely being t' other's none ¶ In loving God if I neglect my Neighbour My love hath lost his proofe and I my labour My Zeale my Faith my Hope that never failes me If
gnaw Prometheus And let poore Ixion turne his endlesse wheele Let Nemesis torment with whips of steele They far come short t' expresse the paines of those That rage in Hell enwrapt in endlesse woes Where time no end and plaguâ—s finde no exemption Where cryes admit no helpe nor place redemption Where fier lacks no flame the flame no beat To make their torments sharpe and plagues compleaâ— Where wretched Soules to tortures bound shall beâ— Serving a world of yeares and not be Freâ— Where nothing's heard but yells and sudden cryes Where â—ier never flakes nor Worme e're dyes But where this Hell is plac'd my Muse stop there Lord shew me what it is but never where Mors tua 1. ¶ CAn he be faire that withers at a blast Or he be strong that ayery Breath can cast Can he be wise that knowes not how to live Or hee be rich that nothing hath to give Can he be young that 's feeble weake and wan So faire strong wise so rich so young is mâ—n So faire is Man that Death a parting Blast Blasts his faire flow'r and makes him Earth at last So strong is Man that with a gasping Breath Hee totters and bequeathes his strength to Deatâ— So wise is Man that if with Death he strive His wisedome cannot teach him how to live So rich is Man that all his Debts b'ing paid His wealth 's the winding-sheet wherein he 's laid So yong is Man that broke with care and sorrow He 's old enough to day to Dye to morrow Why brag'st thou theÌ„ thou worm of five-foot long Th' art neither faire nor strong nor wise nor rich nor 〈◊〉 Mors Christi 2. I Thurst and who shall quench this eager Thurst I grieve and with my griefe my heart will burst I grieve because I thurst without reliefe I thurst because my Soule is burnt with griefe I thurst and dry'd with griefe my heart will dye I grieve and thurst the more for Sorrow's dry The more I grieve the more my thurst appeares Would God I had not griev'd out all my teares I thurst and yet my griefes have made a Floud But teares are salt I grieve and thurst for blood I grieve for blood must send reliefe I thurst for blood for blood for blood must ease my griefe I thurst for sacred blood of a deare Lambe I grieve to thinke from whence that deare blood came 'T was shed for me O let me drinke my fill Although my griefe remaine entier still O soveraigne pow'r of that Vermilian Spring Whose vertue neither heart coÌ„ceives nor tongue can sing Fraus Mundi 3. I Love the World as Clients love the Lawes To manage the uprightnesse of my Cause The World loves me as Shepheards doe their flockes To rob and spoile them of their fleecy lockes I love the World and use it as mine Inne To bait and rest my tyred sarkeise in The World loves me For what To make her 〈◊〉 For filthy sinne she sels me timely shame She 's like the Basiliske by whose sharpe eyes The living object first discover'd dyes Forth from her eyes empoysoned beames do durâ—â— Dyes like a Basiliske discerned first We live at jarres as froward Gamesters doe Still guarding nor regarding others foe I love the World to serve my turne and leave her 'T is no deceit to coâ—zen a Deceiver She 'll not misse me I lesse the world shall misse To lose a world of griefe t' enjoy a world of Blâ—sse Gloria Coeli 4. EArth stands immov'd and fixt her situation Admits no locall change no alteration Heaven alway moves renewing still his place And ever sees us with another Face Earth standeth fixt yet there I live opprest Heaven alway mooves yet there is all my rest Enlarge thy selfe my Soule with meditation Mount there and there bespeake thy habitatioâ— Where joies are full pure not mixt with mourniâ—â— All endlesse and from which is no returning No theft no cruell murther harbours there No hoary-headed Care no sudden Feare No pinching want no griping-fast oppression Nor Death the stipend of our first transgression But dearest Friendship Love and lasting Plâ—â—sure Still there abides without or stint or measure Fulnesse of Riches comfâ—â—â—t sempeternall Excesse without a surfetting And Life Eternall Dolor Inferni 5. THe Trump shall blow the dead awak'd shal rise And to the Clouds shall turn their wondring eies The heav'ns shal ope the Bridegroom forth shal come To judge the World and give the World her doome Ioy to the Iust to others endlesse smart To those the Voyce bids Come to these Depart Depart from Life yet dying live for ever For ever dying be and yet Dye never Depart like Dogs with Devils take your lot Depart like Devils for I know you not Like Dogs like Devils goe Goe howle and barke Depart in darknesse for your deeds were darke Let râ—aring be your Musicke and your Food Be flesh of Vipers and your drinke their blood Let Fiends afflict you with Reproach and Shame Depart depart into Eternall Flame If Hell the Guerdon then of Sinners be Lord give me Hell on earth Lord give mee heav'n with thee vv vv Iam deâ—ine Tibia versus FINIS Hadassa Horat. Ode 6. â—onamur tenues grandia nec pudor â—mbellisque Lyrae Musapotens vetat By Fra. Quarles LONDON Printed for IOHN MARRIOT 1632. A PREFACE TO THE READER A Sober veine best suits Theologie If therefore thou expect'st such Elegancy as takes the times affect some subject as will beare it Had I laboured with over-abundaÌ„ce of fictions or flourishes perhaps they had exposed mee censurable and disprized this sacred subject Therefore I rest more sparing in that kinde Two things I would treate of First the matter secondly the manner of this History As for the matter so farre as I have dealt it is Canonicall and indited by the holy Spirit of God not lyable to errour and needs no blanching In it Theologie sits as Queene attended by her handmaid Philosophy both concurring to make the understanding Reader a good Divine and a wise Moralist As for the Divinitie it discovers the Almighty in his two great Attributes in his Mercy delivering his Church in his Iustice confounding her enemies As for the Morality it offers to us the whole practick part of Philosophy dealt 〈◊〉 into Ethicks Politicks and Oeconomickâ— 1. The Ethical part the object wherof is thâ— manners of a private man ranges throâ—â—â— the whole booke and empties it selfe 〈◊〉 the Catalogue of Morall vertues either thâ—â— that governe the body as Fortitude Châ—â— 9. 2. and Temperance Chap. 1. 8. or thoâ—â— which direct the soule either in outwaâ—â— things as Liberalitie Chap 1. 3. Magnifâ—cence Chap. 1. 6. Magnanimity Chap. 2. â— and Modesty Chap. 6. 12. or in conversatioâ— as Iustice Chap. 7. 9. Mansuetude Chap 5 c. 2. The Politicall part the object whereof publike Societie instructs first in the behaviour of a Prince to his Subject in punishâ—â— his vice Chap 7. 10. in rewarding of vertuâ—
hopefull tokenâ— of reliefe Departs the presence of the King addrest In royall Robes and on his lofty Crest He bore a Crowne of Gold his body spred With Lawne and Purple deepely coloured Fill'd were the Iewes with triumphs with noise The common Heralds to proclaime true joyes Like as a prisner muffled at the tree Whose life 's remov'd from death scarce one degree His last pray'r said and hearts confession made His eyes possessing deaths eternall shade At last unlook'd for comes a slow Reprieve And makes him even as dead once more alive Amaz'd he rends deaths muffler from his eyes And over-joy'd knowes not he lives or dyes So joy'd the Iewes whose lives this new Decree Had quit from death and danger and set free Their gasping soules and like a blazing light Disperst the darknesse of the approaching night So joy'd the Iewes and with their solemne Feasts They chaâ—'d dull sorrow from their penâ—ive brestsâ— Meane while the people startled at the newes Some griev'd some envi'd some for feare turn'd Iewes Meditat. 16. AMong the noble Greekes it was no shame To lose a Sword It but deserv'd the name Of warres disastrous fortune but to yeeld The right and safe possession of the Shield Was foule reproach and manlesse cowardize Farre worse than death to him that scorn'd to prize His life before his Honour Honour 's wonne Most in a just defence Defence is gone The Shield once lost the wounded Theban cry'd How fares my Shield which safe he smil'd dy'd True honour bides at home and takes delight In keeping not in gaining of a Right Scornes usurpation nor seekes she blood And thirsts to make her name not great as good God gives a Right to man To man defence To guard it giv'n but when a false pretence Shall ground her title on a greater Might What doth he else but warre with heav'n and fight With Providence God seâ—s the Princely Crowne On heads of Kings Who then may take it downe No juster quarrell or more noble Fight Than to maintaine where God hath giv'n a Right There 's no despaire of Conquest in that warre Where God's the Leader Policy 's no barre To his designes no Power can withstand His high exploits within whose mighty Hand Are all the corners of the earth the hills His fensive bulwarks are which when he wills His lesser breath can bandy up and downe And crush the world and with a winke can drowne The spacious Vniverse in suds of Clay Where heav'n is Leader heav'n must win the day God reapes his honour hence That combat's safe Where hee 's a Combatant and ventures halfe Right 's not impair'd with weaknesse but prevailes In spight of strength wheÌ„ strength power failes Fraile is the trust repos'd on Troops of Horse Truth in a handfull findes a greater force ¶ Lord maile my heart with faith and be my shield And if a world confront me I 'le not yeeld THE ARGVMENT The bloody Massacre The Iâ—wes Prevaile their â—atall sword subdues A world of men and in that â—ray Hamans ten cursed sonnes they slay Sect. 17. NOw when as Time had rip'ned the Decree Whose Winter fruit unshaken from the tree Full ready was to fall and brought that Day Wherein pretended mischiefe was to play Her tragicke Sceane upon the Iewish Stage And spit the venome of her bloody rage Vpon the face of that dispersed Nation And in a minute breathe their desolation Vpon that day as patients in the fight Their scatter'd force the Iewes did reunite And to a head their straggling strength reduc'd And with their fatall hand their hand disus'd To bathe in blood they made so long recoyle That with a purple streame the thirsty soyle O'rflowd on the pavement drown'd with blood Where never was before they rais'd a flood There lies a headlesse body there a limme Newly dis-joynted from the trunke of him That there lies groaning here a gasping head Cropt froÌ„ his neighbors shoulders there halfe dead Full heapes of bodies whereof some curse Fate Others blaspheme the name of Heav'n and rate Their undisposed Starres with bitter cries One pities his poore widow-wife and dies Another bannes the night his sonnes were borne That he must dye and they must live forlorne Here all besmeard in blood congeald there lyes A throng of carcases whose livelesse eyes Are clos'd with dust death there lies the Syre Whose death the greedy heire did long desire And here the sonne whose hopes were all the pleasure His aged father had and his lifes treasure Thus fell their foes some dying and some dead And onely they that scap'd the slaughter fled But with such strange amazement were affrighted As if themselves in their owne deaths delighted That each his force against his friend addrest And sheath'd his sword within his neighbours brest For all the Rulers being sore afraid Of Mardocheus name with strength and ayde Supply'd the Iewes For Mardecheus name Grew great with honour and his honour'd Fame Was blaz'd through ev'ry Province of the Land And spred as farre as did the Kings Command In favour he increast and ev'ry how'r Did adde a greater greatnesse to his pow'r Thus did the Iewes triumph in victory And on that day themselves were doom'd to dye They slew th' appointed actors of their death And on their heads they wore that noble wreath That crownes a Victor with a Victors prize So fled their foes so dyde their enemies And on that day at Susan were imbru'd In blood five hundred men whom theyâ— subdu'd The cursed fruit of the accursed Tree That impious Decad Hamaâ—s progeny Vpon that fatall day they overthrew But tooke no spoile nor substance where they slew Medit. 17. I Lately mus'd and musing stood amaz'd My heart was bound my sight was overdaz'd To view a miracle could Pharo fall Before the face of Isr'el Could her small And ill-appointed handfull then prevaile When Pharo's men of warre and Charr'ots faile These stood like Gyants those like Pigmy brats These soar'd like Eagles those like swarms of gnats On foote these marcht those rod on troops of horse These never better arm'd they never worse Strong backt with vengeaÌ„ce revenge were they These with despaire themselves theÌ„selves betray They close pursu'd these fearefull fled the field How could they chuse but win or these but yeeld Sure 't is nor man nor horse nor sword availes When Isr'el conquers and great Pharo failes Poore Isr'el had no man of warre but One And Pharo having all the rest had none Heav'n fought for Isr'el weakned Pharo's heart Who had no Counter-god to take his part What meant that cloudy Pillar that by day Did usher Isr'el in an unknowne way What meant that fi'ry Pillar that by night Appear'd to Isr'el and gave Isr'el light 'T was not the secret power of Moses Rod That charm'd the Seas in twaine 't was Moses God That fought for Isr'el and made Pharo fall Well thrives the Fray where God's the Generall 'T is neither
should stand As lyable to a severer hand Fond soule beware who e're thou art that spies Anothers fault that thou thine owne chastise Lest like a foolish man thou judge another In those selfe-crimes which in your brest you smotherâ— Who undertakes to dreine his brothers eye Of noisome Humours first must clarifie His owne lest when his brothers blemish is Remov'd he spie a fouler Blame in his It is beyond th' extent of Mans Commission To judge of Man The secret disposition Of Sacred Providence is lockt and seal'd From mans conceit and not to be reveal'd Vntill that Lambe breake ope the Seale and come With life and death to give the world her doome The ground-worke of our faith must not relie On bare Events Peace and Prosperity Are goodly favours but no proper Marke Wherewith God brands his Sheepe No outward barke Secures the body to be sound within The Rich man liv'd in Scarletâ— dyed in Sinne. Behold th' afflicted man affliction moves Compassion but no confusion proves A gloomy Day brings oft a glorious Even The Poore man dy'd with sores and lives in heaveÌ„ To good and bad both fortunes Heaven doth share That both an after-change may hope and feare I 'le hope the best Lord leave the rest to thee Lest while I judge another thou judge me It 's one mans worke to have a serious sight Of his owne sinnes and judge himselfe aright THE ARGVMENT Zophar blames Iob Iob equall makes His wisdome unto theirs He takes In hand to pleade with God and then Describes the fraile estate of men Sect. 10. THen Zophar from deepe silence did awake His words with louder language and bespake Shall Pratlers bee unanswe'rd or shall such Be counted just that speake for babbling much Shal thy words stop our mouths he that hath blamd And scoft at others shall he die unsham'd Our cares have heard thee when thou hast excus'd Thy selfe of evill and thy God accus'd But if thy God should pleade with thee at large thou 'dst reape the sorrows of a double charge Canâ—t thou by deepe inquiry understand The hidden Iustice of th' Almighties hand Heavens large dimensions cannot coÌ„prehend him What e're hee doe what 's he can reprehend him What refuge hast thou then but to present A heart inricht with the sad compliment Of a true convert on thy bended knee Before thy God t' attone thy God and thee Then doubt not but hee 'll reare thee from thy sorrow Disperse thy Clouds and like a shining Morrow Make cleare the Sun-beames of Prosperity And rest thy soule in sweet Security But he whose heart obdur'd in sinne persists His hopes shall vanish as the morning Mists But Iob even as a Ball against the ground Banded with violence did thus rebound You are the onely wisemen in your brests The hidden Magazen of true Wisdome rests Yet though astund with sorrowes doe I know A little and perchance as much as you I 'm scorned of my Friends whose prosprous state Surmises me that have expir'd the date Of earths faire Fortunes to be cast away From heavens regard think none belov'd but they I am despised like a Torch that 's spent Whiles that the wicked blazes in his Tent What have your wisdoms taught me more thaÌ„ that Which birds beasts could they but fpeak would chat Digests the Stomack e're the Pallat tastes O weigh my Words before you judge my case But you referre me to our Fathers dayes To be instructed in their wiser Layes True length of dayes brings Wisdome but I say I have a wiser teacheth me than they For I am taught and tutor'd by that Hand Whose unresisted power doth command The limits of the Earth whose VVisdome schooles And traines the simple makes the learned fooles His hand doth raise the poore deposes Kings On him both Order and the change of things Depend he searches and brings forth the light From out the shadowes and the depth of night All this mine owne Experience hath found true And in all this I know as much as you But you averre If I should plead with God That he would double his severer Rod. Your tongue belies his Iustice you apply Amisse your Med'cine to my Malady In silence you would seeme more wise lesse weake You having spoke now lend me leave to speake Will you doe wrong to doe Gods Iustice right Are you his Counsell Need you helpe to fight His quarrels Or expect you his applause Thus brib'd with selfe-conceit to plead his cause Iudgement 's your Fee when as you take in hand Heavens cause to plead it and not Heav'n coÌ„mand If that the foulnesse of your censures could Not fright you yet me thinks his greatness should Whose Iustice you make Patron of your lies Your slender Maximes and false Forgeries Are substanc't like thedust that flyes besides me Peace then and I will speake what e're betides me My soule is on the rack my tears have drown'd me Yet will I trust my God though God confound me He He 's my Towre of strength No hypocrite Stands unconfounded in his glorious sight Ballance my words I know my case would quit Me from your censures should I argue it Who takes the Plaintifes pleading Come for I Must plead my right or else perforce must die With thee great Lord of Heaven I dare dispute If thou wilt grant me this my double Suit First that thou slake these sorrows that surrouÌ„d me Then that thy burning Face doe not confound me Which granted then take thou thy choyce let me Propound the question or else answer Thee Why dost thou thus pursue me like thy Foe For what great sinne dost thou afflict me so Break'st thou a withred Leafe thy Iustice doth Summe up the reckonings of my sinfull youth Thou keep'st me pris'ner bound in fetters fast And like a thred-bare garment doe I wast Man borne of Woman hath but a short while To live his dayes are fleet and full of toyle Hee 's like a Flower shooting forth and dying His life is as a Shadow swiftly flying Ah! b'ing so poore a thing what needst thou minde him The number of his dayes thou hast confin'd him Then adde not plagues unto his Griefe O give Him peace that hath so small a time to live Tree's that are fell'd may sprout again man never His dayes are numbred and he dyes for ever He 's like a Mist exhaled by the Sunne His dayes once done they are for ever done O that thy Hand would hide me close and cover Me in the Grave till all thy Wrath were over My desperate sorrows hope for no reliefe Yet will I waite my Change My day of griefe Will be exchang'd for an Eternall day Of joy But now thou dost not spare to lay Full heapes of vengeance on my broken soule And writâ—st my sinnes upon an ample scrowle As â—ountaines being shaken fall and Rocks Though firm are worn rent with many knocks So strongest men are batterd with thy strength Loose ground returning to the Ground
Shal blaze his shame and Earth shall stand his foe His wandring Children shall no dwelling know Behold the mans estate whom God denyes Behold thine owne pourtraicted to thine Eyes Meditat. 12. CAn mercy come from bloody Câ—in Or hath His angry Brow a smile or can his wrath Be quencht with ought but righteous Abels blood Can guilty Pris'ners hope for any good From the severer Iudge whose dismall breath Dooms them to die breaths nothing else but death Ah righteous Iudge wherein hath Man to trust Man hath offended and thy Lawes are just Thou frownest like a Iudge but I had rather That thou would'st smile upon me like a Father What if thy Esau be austere and rough Thou hast a Iacob that is smooth enough Thy Iacobs tender Kid brings forth a blessing While Esaus tedious Ven'zon is a dressing Thy face hath smiles as well as frownes by turnes Thy fier giveth light as well as burnes What if the Serpent stung old Adam dead Young Adam lives to breake that Serpents head Iustice hath struck me with a bleeding wound But Mercy poures in Oyle to make it sound The milk-white Lamb confounds the roaring Lion Blasted by Sinah I am heal'd by Sion The Law finds guilty and Death Iudgement gives But sure I am that my Redeemer lives How wretched was mans case in those dark dayes When Law was only read Which Law dismayes And taking vantage through the breach of it The Letter kills and can no way admit Release by pardon for by Law we dye Why then hop'd man without a reason Why Although there was no Sun their Morning eyes Saw by the Twilight that the Sun would rise The Law was like a mistie Looking-Glasse Wherein the shadow of a Saviour was Treats in a darker straine by Types and Signes And what should passe in after-dayes divines The Gospell sayes that he is come and dead And thus the Riddle of the Law is read Gospell is Law the Myst'ry being seal'd And Law is Gospell being once reveal'd Experience tells us when as birth denyes To man through Natures oversight his eyes Nature whose curious workes are never vaine Supplyes them in the power of his Braine So they whose eyes were barr'd that glorious sight Of the Messiah's day receiv'd more Light Inspired by the breath of Heaven then they That heard the tydings of that happy day The man that with a sharpe contracted eye Lookes in a cleere Perspective-Glasse doth spiâ— Objects remote which to the sense appeare Through help of the Perspective seeming neere So they that liv'd within the Lawes Dominion Did heare farre off a bruit and buzz'd Opinion A Saviour one day should be borne but he That had a Perspective of Faith might see That long-expected day of joy as cleere As if the triumph had beene then kept there Lord so direct me in thy perfect Way That I may looke and smile upon that Day O! bathe me in his blood spunge every staine That I may boldly sue my Counter-paine O! make me glorious in the doome he gives For sure I am that my Redeemer lives THE ARGVMENT Earths happinesse is not Heavens brand A rash recounting of Iob's crimes Iob trusts him to th' Almighties hand God ties his Iudgements not to Times Sect. 31. THen Iob replyde O let your patience prove You came not to afflict me but in Love O! beare with me and heare me speake at leysure My speech once ended mock scoffe your pleasure Myst'ries I treat not Toyes If then I range A thought beyond my selfe it is not strange Behold my case and stand amaz'd forbeare me Be still and in your deeper silence heare me Search you the hearts of men my Friends or can You judge the Inward by the Outward Man How haps the wicked then so sound in health So ripe in yeeres so prosperous in wealth They multiply their house is fill'd with Peace They passe unplagu'd their fruitfull flocks increase Their children thrive in joyfull melody Prosperous they live and peacefully they dye Renounce us God say they if God there be What need we knowledge of thy Word or Thee What is th' Almighty that we should adore him What hoots our prayer or us to fall before him 'T is not by chance their vaine Prosperity Crownes them with store or Heav'n not knowing why But you affirme That in conclusion they Shall fall But not so sudden as you say But can ye limit forth the space confine How long or when their lamps shal cease to shine Will any of you undertake to teach Your Maker things so farre above your reach The bad man lives in plenty dyes in peace The good as doe his houres his griefes increase Yet both the good and bad alike shall haue Though lives much differing yet one coÌ„mon grave I know your mining thoughts You will demand Where is the wickeds power And where stand Their lofâ—y buildings Are they to be seene Enquire of wandring Pilgrims that have beene Experienc'd in the Roade and they ' lrelate The Princely greatnesse of their Towâ—'s and State Live any more secure then they Or who Dare once reprove them for the deeds thy doe He lives in power and in peace he dyes Attended in his pompeous Obsequies How vaine are then the comforts of your breath That censure goodnesse or by Life or Death Said Eliphâ—z What then remaines Thy tongue Hath quit thy selfe accus'd thy God of wrong Gaines he by mans uprightnesse Can man adde To his perfection what he never had Fears he the strength of Man doth he torment him Lest that his untam'd power should prevent him What need I wast this breath Recall thy senses And take the Inventory of thy ' offences Thou tookst the poore mans Pawne nor hast thou fed Thy needy Brother with thy prosp'rous Bread Thy hands perverted Iustice and have spoyl'd The hopelesse Widow with her helplesse child Hence spring thy sorrowes Iob 'T is Iustice then Thou shouldst-bee plagu'd that thus plagu'd other men Is heaven just Can heavens just Creator Let passe unpunisht Sinnes of so high nature Hath not experience taught that for a while The Wicked may exalt their Crests and smile Blowne up with Insolence But in conclusion They fall and good men laugh at their confusion Iob adde not sinne to sinne cease to beguile Thy selfe thinking to quench thy fire with Oyle Returne thee to thy God confesse thy crimes Returne and he will crowne thy after times With former Blessings and thy Riches shall Be as the Sand for God is all in all His face shall welcome thee and smile upon thee And cease that mischief his just haÌ„d hath done thee He shall be pleased with thy holy Fires And grant the issue of thy best Desires Iob answer'd then Although my soule be faint And griefes weigh down the scale of my complaint Yet would I plead my cause which you defam'd Before my Maker and would plead unsham'd Could I but find him I would take upon me To quite the censures you have
Gods Iudgement stand Since we were both created by one Hand If e're my power wrong'd the Poore mans cause Or to the Widow lengthned out the Lawes If e're alone my lips did taste my bread Or shut my churlish doores the poore unfed Or bent my hand to doe the Orphane wrong Or saw him naked unapparell'd long In heapes of Gold if e're I tooke delight Or gave Heavens worship to the heavenly Light Or e're was flattred by my secret Will or joyed in my Adversaries Ill Let God accurse mee from his glorious Seat And make my plagues if possible more great Oh! That some equall hearer now were by To judge my righteous cause Full sure am I I shall be quitted by th' Almighties hand What therefore if censorious tongues withstand The judgement of my sober Conscience Compose they Ballads on me yet from thence My simple Innocence shall gaine renowne And on my head I 'le weare them as my Crowne To the Almighties care will I reveale My secret wayes to him alone appeale If to conclude the Earth could finde a tongue Tâ—impeach my guiltlesse hands of doing wrong If hidden Wages earn'd with sweat doe lye Rak't in her furrowes let her wombe deny To blesse my Harvest let her better Seeds Be turn'd to Thistles and the rest to Weeds Medita 15. THe man whose soule is undistain'd with Ill Pure from the check of a distempred Will Stands onely free from the distracts of Care And flies a pitch above the reach of Feare His bosome dares the threatning Bow-mans arme His wisedome sees his Courage feares no harme His brest lyes open to the reâ—king Sword The darts of swarthy Maurus can affoord Lesse dread than danger to his well prepar'd And setled minde which standing on her guard Bids Mischiefe doe the worst she can or will For he that does no ill deserves no ill Would any strive with Samson for renowne Whose brawny arme can strike most pillers downe Or try a fall with Angels and prevaile Or with a Hymne unhinge the strongest Iayle Would any from a prâ—â—ner prove a Prince Or with slow speech best Orators convince Preserve he then unstained in his brest A milkeâ—white Conscience let his soule be blest With simple Innocence This seven fold shield No dart shall pierce no sword shall make it yeeld The siâ—ewy Bow and deadly headed Launce Shall breake in shivers and the splinters glaunce Aside returning backe from whence they came And wound their hearts with an eternall shame The just and constant minde that perseveres Vnblemisht with false pleasures never feares The bended threatnings of a Tyrants brow Death neither can disturbe nor change his Vow Well guarded with himselfe he walkes along When most alone he stands a thousand strong Lives he in weale and full Prosperity His wisedome tells him that he lives to dye Is he afflicted Sharpe afflictions give Him hopes of Chang and that hee dyes to live Is he revil'd and scorn'd He sits and smiles Knowing him happy whom the world reviles If Rich he gives the Poore and if he live In poore estate he findes rich friends to give He lives and Angel in a mortall forme And having past the brunt of many a storme At last ariveth at the Haven of Rest Where that just Iudge that rambles in his brest Ioyning with Angels with an Angels voyce Chaunts forth sweet Requieâ—s of Eternall joyes THE ARGVMENT Elihu Iob reproves reproves His Friends alike he pleades the case With Iob in Gods behalfe and moves Him to recant and call for Grace Sect. 16. THus Iob his ill defended Cause adjournes And silence lends free liberty of turnes To his unjust Accusers whose bad cause Hath left them grounded in too large a pause Whereat Elihu a young stander-by Whose modest eares upon their long reply Did wait his angry silence did awake And craving pardon for his Youth bespake Young Standers-by doe oftentimes see more Than elder Gamesters Y' are to blame all foure T'ones cause is bad but with good proofs befriended The others just and good but ill defended Though reason makes the man Heaven makes him wise Wisdome in greatest Clerks not alway lyes Then let your silence give me leave to spend My judgement whilst your heedfull eares attend I have not heard alone but still expected To heare what more your spleenes might have objected Against your wofull Friend but I have found Your reasons built upon a sandy ground Flourish no Flags of Conquest Vnderstand That he 's afflicted by th' Almighties hand He hath not fail'd to crosse your accusations Yet I though not with your â—oule exprobations Will crosse him too I 'me full and I must speake Or like unvented vessels I must breake And with my tongue my heart will be reliev'd That swells with what my patience hath conceiv'd Be none offended for my lips shall tread That ground without respect as Truth shall lead God hates a flattering language then how can I Vnliable to danger flatter any Now Iob to thee I speake O let my Errant Be welcome to thine â—ares for truth 's my warrant They are no slender trifles that I treat But things digested with the sacred heat Of an inspired knowledge 'T is no rash Discharge of wrath nor wits conceited flash I 'le speake and heare thee speake as free for I Will take no vantage of thy Misery Thy tongue did challenge to maintaine thy casâ— With God if he would veile his glorious face Be I the man though clad with clay and dust And mortall like thy selfe that takes the trust To represent his Person Thou dost terme Thy selfe most just and boldly dost affirme That Heaven afflicts thy soul without a reason Ah Iob these very words alone are treason Against th' Almighties will Thou oughtest rather Submit thy passion to him as thy Father Than plead with him as with thy Peere Is he Bound to reveale his secret Will to thee God speaketh oft to man not understood Sometimes in dreames at other times thinkes good To thunder Iudgement in his drowzy eare Sometimes with hard afflictions scourge doth teare His wounded soule which may at length give easâ— Like sharper Physicke to his foule Disease But if like pleasing Iulips he afford The meâ—ke Expounders of his sacred Word With sweet perswasions to recure his griefe How can his sorroâ—es wish more faire Reliefe Ah then his body shall wax young and bright Heavens face that scorcht before shall now delight His tongue with Triumph shall confesse to men I was a Leper but am cleare agen Thus thus that Spring of Mercy oftentimes Doth speak to man that man may speak his crimes Consider Iob my words with judgement weigh Which done if thou hast ought then boldly say If otherwise shame not to hold thy peace And let thy wisedome with my words encrease And you you Wisemen that are silent here Vouchsafe to lend my lips your ripened earâ— Let 's call a parly and the cause decide For Iob pleads guiltlesse and would faine be
Skollops and returne the Shels Our sweet Pomgranats want their silver Bells We take the Gift the hand that did present it We oft reward forget the Friend that sent it A blessing given to those will not disburse Some thanks is little better then a curse Great giver of all blessings thou that art The Lord of Gifts give me a gratefull heart O give me that or keepe thy favours from me I wish no blessings with a Vengeance to me THE ARGVMENT Affrighted Manoah and his Wife Both prostrate on the naked earth Both rise The man despaires of life The woman cheares him Samsons birth Sect. 6. WHen time whose progresse mod'rates and out weares Th' extreamest passions of the highest fears By his benignant power had re-inlarg'd Their captive senses and at length discharg'd Their frighted thoughts the trembling couple rose From their unquiet and disturb'd repose Have you beheld a Tempest how the waves Whose unresisted Tyranny out-braves And threats to grapple with the darkned Skies How like to moving Mountaines they arise From their distempred Ocean and assaile Heav'ns Battlements nay when the windes dâ—e faile To breathe another blast with their owne motion They still are swelling and disturbe the Ocean Even so the Danite and his trembling wife Their yet confused thoughts are still at strife In their perplexed brests which entertain'd Continued feares too strong to be refrain'd Speechlesse they stood till Manoah that brake The silence first disclos'd his lips and spake What strange aspect was this that to our sight Appear'd so terrible and did affright Our scattering thoughts What did our eyes behold I feare our lavish tongues have bin too bold What speeches past betweene us Can'st recall The words we entertain'd the time withall It was no man It was no flesh and blood Me thought mine eares did â—ngle while he stood And commun'd with me At each word be spake Me thouâ—ht my heart recoil'd his voyce did shake My very Soule but when as he became So angry and so dainty of his name O how my wonder-smitteâ— heart began To faile O then I knâ—w it was no man No no It was the face of God Our eyes Have seene his face who ever saw 't but dies We are but dead Death dwells within his eye And we have seen 't and we shall surely die Where to the woman who did either hide Or else had overcome her feares replide Despairing Man take courage and forbeare These false predictions there 's no cause of feare Would Heaven accept our offerings and receive Our holy things and after that bereive His servants of their lives Can he be thus Pleas'd with our offerings unappeas'd with us Hath he not promis'd that the time shall come Wherein the fruits of my restored wombe Shall make thee father to a hopefull Sonne Can Heaven be false Or can these things be done When we are dead No no his holy breath Had spent in vaine if they had meant our death Recall thy needlesse feares Heaven cannot lye Although we saw his face we shall not dye So said they brake off their discourse and went He to the field and she into her Tent Thrice forty dayes not full compleat being come Within th'enclosure of her quickned wombe The Babe began to spring and with his motion Confirm'd the faith and quickned the devotion Of his beleeving parents whose devout And heaven-ascending Orizans no doubt Were turn'd to thanks and heart-rejoycing praise To holy Hymnes and heavenly Roundelaies The childe growes sturdy Every day gives strength Vnto his wombe-fed limmes till at the length Th'apparent mother having past the date Of her accompt does only now awaite The happy houre wherein she may obtaine Her greatest pleasure with her greatest paine When as the faire directresse of the night Had thrice three times repar'd her wained light Her wombe no longer able to retaine So great a guest betraid her to her paine And for the toilsome worke that she had done She found the wages of a new borne Sonne 〈◊〉 she call'd his name the childe encreast And hourely suckt a blessing with the brest Daily his strength did double He began To grow in favour both with God and Man His well attended Infancy was blest With sweetnesse in his Childhood he exprest True seeds of honour and his youth was crown'd With high and brave adventures which renown'd His honour'd name His courage was suppli'd With mighty strength His haughty spirit defide And hoast of men His power had the praise â—ove all that were before or since his dayes And to conclude Heav'n never yet conjoyn'd So strong a body with so stout a minde Meditat. 6. HOw pretious were those blessed dayes wherein Soules never startled at the name of Sin When as the voyce of death had never yet A mouth to open or to clame a debt When bashfull nakednesse forbare to call For needlesse skins to cover shame withall When as the fruit-encreasing earth obay'd The will of Man without the wound of spade Or helpe of Art When he that now remaines A cursed Captive to infernall chaines Sate singing Anthems in the heavenly Quire Among his fellow Angels When the Bryer The fruitlesse Bramble the fast growing weed And downy Thistle had as yet no seed When labour was not knowne and man did eate The earths faire fruits unearned with his sweate When wombs might have conceiv'd without the stain Of sin and brought forth children without paine When Heaven could speak to mans unfrighted eare Without the sense of Sin-begotten feare How golden were those dayes How happy than Was the condition and the State of man But Man obey'd not And his proud desire Cing'd her bold feathers in forbidden fire But Man transgrest And now his freedome feeles A sudden change Sinne followes at his heeles The voice calls Adam But poore Adam flees And trembling hides his face behind the trees The voice whilere that ravisht with delight His joyfull eare does now alas affright His wounded conscience with amaze and wonder And what of late was musicke now is Thunder How have our sinnes abus'd us and betrai'd Our desperate soules What strangenes have they made Betwixt the great Creator and the worke Of his owne hands How closely doe they lurke To our distempred soules and whisper feares And doubts into our frighted hearts and eares Our eyes cannot behold that glorious face Which is all life unruin'd in the place How is our nature chang'd That very breath Which gave us being is become our death Great God! O whither shall poore mortalls flie For comfort If they see thy face they dye And if thy life-restoring count'nance give Thy presence from us then we cannot live How necessary is the ruine than And misery of sin-beguiled Man On what foundation shall his hopes relie See wee thy face or see it not we dye O let thy Word great God instruct the youth And frailty of our faith Thy Word is truth And what our eyes want power to perceive O let our
the God of Love's as blinde as hee 〈◊〉 that they brought poore Samson to the Hall 〈◊〉 as he past he gropes to finde the wall 〈◊〉 paâ—â— was slow His feet were lifted high 〈◊〉 tongue would taunt him Every scornfull eye 〈◊〉 filld with laughter Some would cry aloud 〈◊〉 in state His Lordship is growne proud 〈◊〉 bid his honour â—asle whilst others cast â—prochfull termes upon him as he past 〈◊〉 would salute him fairely and embrace 〈◊〉 wounded sides then spit upon his face 〈◊〉 would cry For shame for heare t' abuse 〈◊〉 high and great redeemer of the Iewes 〈◊〉 gibe and flout him with their taunts quip◠〈◊〉 others flurt him on the starting lips 〈◊〉 that poore Samson whose abundant griefe 〈…〉 hopes of comfort or reliefe Resolv'd for patience Turning round he made Some shift to feele his Keeper out and said Good Sir my painfull labour in the Mill Hath made me bold although against my will To crave some little rest If you will please To let the Pillour but afford some ease To my worne limmes your mercy should relieve A soule that has no more but thanks to give The keeper yeelded Now the Hall was filld With Princes and their People that beheld Abused Samson whilst the Roofe retain'd A leash of thousands more whose eyes were chainâ—â— To this sad Object with a full delight To see this flesh-and-blood-relenting sight With that the pris'ner turnd himselfe and pray'd So soft that none but heaven could heare and saidâ— My God my God Although my sinnes doe cry For greater vengeance yet thy gratious eye Is full of mercy O remember now The gentle promise and that sacred vow Thou mad'st to faithfull Abram and his seed O heare my wounded soule that has lesse need Of life then mercy Let thy tender eare Make good thy plenteous promise now and heare See how thy cursed enemies prevaile Above my strength Behold how poore and fraile My native power is and wanting thee What is there Oh what is there Lord in me Nor is it I that suffer My desert May challenge greater vengeance if thou wert â—xtreme to punish Lord the wrong is thine The punishment is just and onely mine I am thy Champion Lord It is not me They strike at Through my sides they thrust at thee 〈◊〉 thy Glory 't is their Malice lies 〈◊〉 at that when they put out these eyes 〈◊〉 their blood-bâ—dabl'd hands would flie 〈…〉 thou but cloth'd in flesh as I 〈◊〉 thy wrongs great God O let thy hand 〈◊〉 thy suffring honour and this land 〈◊〉 â—e thy power Renew my wasted strength 〈…〉 fight thy bâ—ttels and at length 〈◊〉 thy glory that my hands may do 〈◊〉 faithfull service they were borne unto 〈…〉 thy power that I may restore 〈◊〉 and I will never urge thee more 〈◊〉 having ended both his armes he laid 〈◊〉 the pillours of the Hall and said 〈◊〉 with the Philistines I resigne my breath 〈◊〉 let my God finde Glory in my death 〈◊〉 having spoke his yeelding body strain'd 〈◊〉 those Marble pillours that sustain'd 〈◊〉 pondrous Roofe They cracket and with their fall 〈◊〉 fell the Battlements and Roofe and all 〈◊〉 with their ruines slaughter'd at a blow 〈◊〉 whole Assembly They that were below 〈◊〉 their sudden deaths from those that fell 〈◊〉 off the top whilst none was left to tell 〈◊〉 horrid shreckes that filld the spatious Hall 〈◊〉 ruines were impartiall and slew all 〈◊〉 fell and with an unexpected blow 〈◊〉 every one his death and buriall too Thus di'd our Samson whose brave death has won 〈◊〉 honour then his honourd life had done 〈◊〉 di'd our Conquerour whose latest breath 〈◊〉 crown'd with Conquest triumph'd over death 〈◊〉 di'd our Sampson whose last drop of blood â—deem'd heavn's glory and his Kingdome 's good Thus di'd heavens Champion and the earths bright Glory The heavenly subject of this sacred Story And thus th' impartiall hand of death that gathers All to the Grave repos'd him with his fathers Whose name shall flourish and be still in prime In spight of ruine or the teeth of Time Whose fame shal last till heaven shal please to free This Earth from Sinne and Time shall cease to be Medita 23. WAges of sinne is death The day must come Wherin the equall hand of death must sum The severall Items of mans fading glory Into the easie totall of one Story The browes that sweat for Kingdomes and renown To glorifie their Temples with a Crowne At length grow cold and leave their honourd name To flourish in th' uncertaine blast of Fame This is the heighth that glorious Mortalls can Attaine This is the highest pitch of Man The quilted Quarters of the Earths great Ball Whose unconfined limits were too small For his extreame Ambition to deserve Six foote of length and three of bredth must serve This is the highest pitch that Man can flie And after all his Triumph he must die Lives he in Wealth Does well deserved store Limit his wish that he can wish no more And does the fairest bounty of encrease Crown him with plenty and his dayes with peaceâ— It is a right hand blessing But supply Of wealth cannot secure him He must die Lives he in Pleasure Does perpetuall mirth 〈◊〉 him a little Heaven upon his earth â—eets he no sullen care no sudden losse 〈◊〉 coole his joyes Breathes hee without a crosse â—ants he no pleasure that his wanton eye 〈◊〉 crave or hope from fortune He must dye 〈◊〉 he in Honour Hath his faire desart â—â—tain'd the freedome of his Princes heart 〈◊〉 may his more familiar hands disburse 〈◊〉 liberall favors from the royall purse 〈◊〉 his Honour cannot soare too high 〈◊〉 palefac'd death to follow He must dye Lives he a Conqu'rour And doth heaven blesse 〈◊〉 heart with spirit that spirit with successe Successe with Glory Glory with a name To live with the Eternitie of Fame The progresse of his lasting fame may vye With time But yet the Conquerour must dye Great and good God Thou Lord of life and deth 〈◊〉 whom the Creature hath his being breath Teach me to underprize this life and I Shall finde my losse the easier when I dye So raise my feeble thoughts and dull desire That when these vaine and weary dayes expire I may discard my flesh with joy and quit My better part of this false earth and it Of some more sinne and for this transitory And tedious life enjoy a life of Glory The end SIONS SONETS Sung By SOLOMON the KING And PERIPHRAS'D By Fra. Quarles LONDON Printed by MILES FLESHER 1632. To the READERS REaders now you have them May the end of my paines be the beginâ—ing of your pleasures Excuse me for â—haring so high else give me leave to excuse my selfe Indeed I flew with Eagles feathers otherwise I had not flowne or falne It is the Song of Songs There present you with The Author King SOLOMON the wisest of Kings The matter mysticall the divinest of subjects
tempting that no power Was left in thee to stay another hower Or didst thou feed by chance and not observ'd What food it was but tooke as Fortune carv'd 'T is done Be it or Fortunes act or thine It fed the one whose want made Millions pine ELEG 5. ENvie now burst with joy and let thine eyes Strut forth with fatnesse let thy collops rise Pampred and plump Feed full for many yeares Vpon our losse Be drunken with our teares For he is dead whose soule did never cease To crosse and violate your malitious peace He 's dead but in his death hath overthrowne More vices than his happy life had done In life he taught to dye and he did give In death a great example how to live Though he be gone his fame is left behinde Now leave thy laughing Envie and be pin'd ELEG 6. FArewell those eyes whose gentle smiles forsooke No misery taught Charity how to looke Farewell those cheerefull eyes that did e'rewhile Teach succour'd misery how to blesse a smile Farewell those eyes whose mixt aspect of late Did reconcile humility and state Farewell those eyes that to their joyfull guest Proclaim'd their ordinary fare a feast Farewell those eyes the load-stars late whereby The graces â—ail'd secure from eye to eye Farewell deare eyes bright Lamps ô who can tell Your glorious welcome or our sad farewell ELEG 7. GOe glorious Saint I knew 't was not a shrine Of flesh could lodge so pure a soule as thine I saw it labour in a holy scorne Of living dust and ashes to be sworne A heavenly Quirifter It sigh'd and groan'd To be dissolv'd from mortall and enthron'd Among his fellow Angells there to sing Perpetuall Anthems to his heavenly King He was a stranger to his house of Clay Scarce own'd it but that necessary stay Miscall'd it his And onely zeale did make Him love the building for the builders sake ELEG 8. HAd vertue learning the Diviner Arts Wit judgement wisdome or what other parts That make perfection and returne the minde As great as Earth can suffer beene confin'd To earth had they the Patent to abide Secure from change our Ailmer ne're had dy'de Fond earth forbeare and let thy childish eyes Ne're weep for him thou ne're knew'st how to prize Shed not a teare blinde earth for it appeares Thou never lov'dst our Ailmer by thy teares Or if thy flouds must needs oreflow their brim Lament lament thy blindenesse and not him ELEG 9. I Wondred not to heare so brave an end Because I knew who made it could contend With death and conquer and in open chace Would spit defiance in his conquered face And did Dauntlesse he trod him underneath To shew the weaknesse of unarmed death Nay had report or niggard Fame denyde His name it had beene knowne 't was Ailmer dyde It was no wonder to heare rumor tell That he which dyde so oft once dyde so well Great Lord of life how hath thy dying breath Made man whoÌ„ death had conquerd coÌ„quer death ELEG 10. KNowledge the depth of whose unbounded maine Hath bin the wreck of many a curious braine And from her yet unreconciled schooles Hath fill'd us with so many learned fooles Hath tutor'd thee with rules that cannot erre And taught thee how to know thy selfe and her Furnisht thy nimble soule in height of measure With humane riches and divinest treasure From whence as from a sacred spring did flow Fresh Oracles to let the hearer know A way to glory and to let him see The way to glory is to studie thee ELEG 11. LOoke how the body of heavens greater light Inâ—iches each beholder with his bright And glorious rayes untill the envious West Too greedy to enjoy so faire a guest Calls him to bed where ravisht from our sight He leaves us to the solemne frownes of night Even so our Sun in his harmonious spheare Enlightned every eye rapt every eare Till in the earely sunset of his yeares He dyde and left us that survive in teares And like the Sun in spight of death and fate He seemed greatest in his lowest state ELEG 12. MOlest me not full sighes and flowing teares You stormes showres of nature stop your eares Fond flesh and bloud against the strong temptation Of fullen griefe and sense-bereaving passion Cease to lament Let not thy slow pac'd numbers Disturbe his rest that so so sweetly slumbers The child of virtue is asleepe not dead He dies alone whom death hath conquered Why should we shed a teare for him or why Lament we whom we rather should envie He lives he lives a life shall never tast A change so long as Crownes of glory last ELEG 13. NO no he is not dead The mouth of fame Honors shrill Herald would preserve his name And make it live in spight of death and dust Were there no other heaven no other trust He is not dead The sacred Nine deny The soule that merits fame should ever dye He lives and when the latest breath of fame Shall want her Trumpe to glorifie a name He shall survive and these selfe closed eyes That now lie slumbring in the dust shall rise And fill'd with endlesse glory shall enjoy The perfect vision of eternall joy ELEG 14. O But the dregs of flesh and bloud How close They grapple with my soule and interpose Her higher thoughts which yet but young of wing They cause to stoope and strike at every thing Passion presentâ— before their weakned eye Iudgement and better reason standing by I must lament Nature commands it so The more I strive with teares the more they flow These eyes have just nay double cause of mone They weepe the coÌ„mon losse they weep their own He sleepes Indeed then give me leave to weepe Teares fully answerable to his sleepe ELEG 15. PArdon my teares if they be too too free And if thou canst not weepe I 'le pardon thee Dull Stoick If thou laugh to heare his death I 'le weep that thou wert borne to spend that breath Thou dry-brain'd Portick whose Ahenian brest Transcending passion never was opprest With griefe O had your flinty Sect but lost So rare a prize as we lament and boast Your hearts had crost your Tenet and disburst As many drops as we have done or burst No marvell that your marble braines could crosse Her lawes that never gave you such a losse ELEG 16. QVicke-sould Pythagoras O thou that wert So many men and didst so oft revert From shades of death if we may trust to Fame With losse of nothing but thy buried name Hadst thou but liv'd in this our Ailmers time Thou wouldst have dyde once more to live in him Or had our Ailmer in those daies of thine But dyde and left so glorious so divine A soule as his how would thy hasty brâ—st Have gasp'd to entertaine so faire a guest Which if obtained had no doubt supplyde thee With that immortall state thy Sire denyde thee ELEG 17. RAre soule that now sits crowned in
DIVINE POEMES Reuised and Corrected with Additions By the Author Fra Quarles Printed for Iohn Marriott in St Dunstons Church yard 〈…〉 DIVINE POEMS Containing The History of IONAH ESTER IOB SAMPSON SIONS SONETS ELEGIES Written and newly augmented BY FRA QVARLES LONDON Printed by M. F. for I. MARRIOT and are to be sold at his Shop in St. Dunstans Church-yard in Fleet-streete TO THE SACRED MAIESTIE of King CHARLES SIR WHen your Landed Subject dyes and leaves none of his Blood to inherite the Lawes of this your Kingdome finds the King heyre In this Volume are contained severall Poems lately dedicated to divers of your Nobility whom they have out-lived So that the Muses who seldome or never give honour for lifes have found them all for the King which have here gathered together and prostrated before the feet of your Sacred Majesty Indeed one of them I formerly dedicated and presented to your selfe So that now they are become doubly yours both by Escheate and as Survivour And if you please to owne me as your servant your Majestie hath another Title good by which I most desire they should bee knowne yours I will not sin against the common good so much as to expect your Majesties serious eye upon them If when your Crowne shall be most favourable to your Princely browes you please to afford a gracious hearing they will with the helpe of some benevolous Reader and your Royall acceptance I hope relish in your sacred eares and receive honour from your accustomed goodnes farre above their merits or the expectation of Your true-hearted and loyall Liegeman FRA QVARLES To the READER I List not to tyre thy patient eares with unnecessary Language the abuse of Complementâ— My mouth 's no Dictionary it only serves as the needfull Interpreter of my Heart I have here sent thee the first fruits of an abortive Birth It is a daintie Subject not Fabulous but Truth it selfe Wonder not at the Title A FEAST FOR VVORMES for it is a Song of Mercy What greater FEAST than Mercy And what are Men but WORMES Moreover I have gleaned some few Meditatations obvious to the History Let mee advise thee to keepe the Taste of the one whilest thou readest the other and that will make thee relish both the better Vnderstanding Reader favour mee Gently expound what it is too late to correct He leva le Golpe Dios sea con ella Farewell THE PROPOSITION of this first Worke. â—TIs not the Record of great Hectors glory Whose matchlesse Valour makes the World a Story Nor yet the swelling of that Romans name That onely Came and Look'd and Overcame Nor One nor All of those brave Worthies nine Whose Might was great and Acts almost divine That live'd like Gods but dy'd like Men and gone Shall give my Pen a Taske to treat upon I sing the praises of the KING of Kings Out of whose mouth a two-edg'd Smiter springs Whose Words are Mystery whose Works are Wonder Whose Eyes are Lightning and whose Voice is Thunder Who like a Curtaine spreads the Heavens out Spangled with Starres in Glory round about 'T is He that cleft the furious waves in twaine Making a High-way passage through the Maine 'T is He that turn'd the waters into Blood And smote the Rocky stone and caus'd a Flood 'T is He that 's justly armed in his Ire Behinde with Plagues before with flaming Fire More bright than mid-day Phoebus are his Eyes And whosoever sees his Visage dyes I sing the Praises of Great Iudahs Lyon The fragrant Flowre of Iesse the Lambe of Sion Whose Head is whiter than the driven Snow Whose visage doth like flames of Fier glow His Loynes begirt with golden Belt his Eyne Like Titan ridinst in his Southerne Shine His Feet like burning Brasse and as the noise Of surgie Neptunes roaring in hiâ— Voice This is that Paschall Lambe whose dearest Blood Is soveraigâ—e Drinke whose Flesh is saving Food His precious Blood the Worthies of the Earth Did drinke which though but borne of mortall birth Return'd them Deities For who drinkes This Shall be receiv'd into Eternall Blisse Himselfe 's the Gift which He himselfe did give His Stripes heale us and by His Death we live He acting God and Man in double Nature Did reconcile Mankinde and Mans Creator I heere 's a Taske indeed If Mortalls could Not make a Verse yet Rockes and Mountaines would The Hills shall dance the Sunne shall stop his Course Hearing the subiect of this high Discourse The Horse and Gryphin shall together sleepe The Wolfe shall fawne upon the silly Sheepe The crafty Serpent and the fearfull Hart Shall joyne in Consort and each beare a part And leape for Ioy when my Vrania sings She sings the praises of the King of Kings The Introduction ¶ THat Ancient Kingdome that old Assur swayd Shew'd two great Cities Ah! but both decayd Both mighty Great but of unequall growth Both great in People and in Building both But ah What hold is there of earthly good Now Grasse growes there where these brave Cities stood The name of one great Babylon was hight Through which the rich Euphrates takes her flight From high Armenia to the ruddy Seas And stores the Land with rich Commodities ¶ The other Ninus Nineveh the Great So huge a Fabricke and well-chosen Seat Don Phoebus fiery Steeds with Maines becurl'd That circundates in twice twelve houres the world Ne're saw the like By great King Ninus hand 'T was rais'd and builded in th' Assyâ—ians Land On one hand Lycus washt her fruitfull sides On t'other Tygris with her hasty â—ides Begirt she was with walles of wondrous might Creeping twice fifty foot in measur'd height Vpon their bredth if ought we may rely On the report of Sage Antiquity Three Chariots fairely might themselves display And ranke together in a Baâ—tell ray The Circuit that her mighty Bulke imbraces Containes the mete of sixty thousand 〈◊〉 Within her well-fenc'd walls you might discover Five hundred stately Towers thrice told over Whereof the highest draweth up the eye As well the low'st an hundred Cubits hie All rich in those things which to state belong For beauty brave and for munition strong Duly and daily this great Worke was tended With ten thousand Workmen begun and ended In eight yeares space How beautifull how faire Thy Buildings And how foule thy Vices are ¶ Thou Land of Assur double then thy pride And let thy Wells of Ioy be never dry'd Thou hast a Palace that 's renown'd so much The like was never is nor will be such ¶ Thou Land of Assur treble then thy Wâ—â— And let thy Teares doe as thy Cups o'reflow For this thy Palace of so great renowne Shall be destroy'd and sackt and batter'd downe But cheere up Niniveh thine inbred might Hath meanes enough to quell thy Foemans spite Thy Bulwarkes are like Mountaines and thy Wall Disdaines to stoope to thundring Ordnance call Thy watchfull Towers mounted round about Keepe thee in safety and thy Foe-men out I
shall flye A lessning pitch to the deceived eye If in her Downy Soreage she but ruffe So strong a Dove may it be thought enough Beare with her Time and Fortune may require Your patient sufferance with a fairer flight The generall Application TO thee Malâ—idâ— now I turne my Quill That God is still that God and will be still The painfull Pastors take up Ionah's roome And thou the Ninivite to whom they coâ—e Medit. 1. HOw great 's the love of God unto his creature Or is his Wisedome or his Mercy greater I know not whether O th'exceeding love Of highest God! that from his Throne above Will send the brightnesse of his grace to those That grope in darknesse and his grace oppose He helpes provides inspires and freely gives As pleas'd to see us ravell out our lives He gives us from the heape He measures not Nor deales like Manna each his stinted lot But daily sends the Doctors of his Spouse With such like oyle as from the Widowes cruse Did issue forth in fulnesse without wasting Where plenty still was had yet plenty lasting I there is â—are in heaven and heavenly sprights That guides the world and guards poore mortall wights There is else were the miserable state Of Man more wretched and unfortunate Than salvage beasts But O th'abounding love Of highest God! whose Angels from above Dismount the Towre of Blisse flye to and fro Assisting wretched Man their deadly foe What thing is Man that Gods regard is such Or why should heaven love rechlesse Man so much Why what are men but quickned lumps of earth A Feast for Wormes a bubble full of mirth A Looking glasse for griefe A flash A minute A painted Toombe with putrifaction in it A mappe of Death A burthen of a song A winters Dust A worme of five foot long Begot in sinne In darknesse nourisht Bornâ— In sorrow Naked Shiftlesse and forlorne His first voice heard is crying for reliefe Alas He comes into a world of griefe His Age is sinfull and his Youth is vaine His Life 's a punishment His Death 's a paine His Life 's a houre of Ioy a world of Sorrow His death 's a winters night that findes no morrow Mans Life 's an Hower-glasse which being run Concludes that houre of joy and so is done Ionah must goe nor is this charge confinde To Ionah but to all the world enjoyn'd You Magistrates arise and take delight In dealing Iustice and maintaining Right There lyes your Niniveh Merchants arise And mingle conscience with your Merchandise Lawyers arise make not your righteous Lawes A tricke for gaine Let Iustice rule the cause Tradesmen arise and plye your thriving shops With truer hands and eate your meate with drops Paul to thy Tents and Peter to thy Net And all must goe that course which God hath set ¶ Great God awake us in these drowsie times Lest vengeance finde us sleeping in our Crymes Encrease succession in thy Prophets liew For loe thy Harvest 's great and workmen few THE ARGVMENT But Ionah toward Tharsis went A Tempest doth his course prevent The Mariners are sore opprest While Ionah sleepes and takes his rest Sect. 2. BVt Ionah thus bethought The City's great And mighty Ashur stands with deadly threat Their hearts are hardued that they cannot heare Will greene wood burne when so unapt's the seire Strange is the charge Shall I goe to a place Vnknowne and forraigne Aye me hard 's the case That righteous Isrâ—el must be thus neglected When Miscreants and Gentiles are respected How might I hope my words shall there succeed Which thrive not with the flockes I daily feed I know my God is gentle and enâ—linde To tender mercy apt to change his minde Vpon the least repentance Then shall I Be deem'd as false and shame my Prophecie O heavy burthen of a doubtfull mind Where shall I goe or which way shall I wind My heart like Ianus looketh to and fro My Credit bids me Stay my God bids Goe If Goe my labour 's lost my shame 's at hand If stay Lord I transgresse my Lords command If goe from bad estate to worse I fall If stay I slide from bad to worst of all My God bids goe my credit bids me stay My guilty feare bids fly another way So Ionah straight arose himselfe bedight With fit acoutrements for hasty flight In stead of staffe he tooke a Shipmans weed In stead of going loâ— he flyes with speed Like as a Hawke that overmatcht with might Doing sad penance for th'unequall fight Answâ—ring the Falkners second shout does flee From fist turnes tayle to foule and takes a tree So Ionah baulks the place where he was sent To Nineveh and downe to Iaffa went He sought enquired and at last he found A welcome Ship that was to Tharsis bound Where he may flye the presence of the Lord He makes no stay but straightway goes aboord His hasty purse for bargaine findes no leisure Where sinn delights there 's no account of treasure Nor did he know nor aske how much his Fare He gave They tooke all parties pleased are How thriftlesse of our cost and paines are we Great God of heaven and earth to fly from thee Now have the sailors drunke their parting cup They goe aboord The Sâ—â—les are hoisting up The Anchor 's wayd the keele begins t' obey Her gentle Rudder leaves her quiet Key Divides the streames and without winde or oare She easly glides along the moving shore Her swelling Canvace gives her nimbler motion Sh'outstrips the Tide and hies her to the Ocean Forth to the deepe she launches and outbraves The prouder billowes rides upon the waves She plies that course her Compas hath enjoindher And soone hath left the lessned land behind her By this the breath of heaven began to cease Calme were the Seas the waves were all at peace The flagging mainsaile flapt against her yard The uselesse Compasse and the idle Card Were both neglected Vpon every side The gamesome Porpisce tumbled on the Tide Like as a Mastisâ—e when restrain'd a while Is made more furious and more apt for spoile Or when the breath of man being bard the course At length breakes forth with a farre greater force Even so the miâ—der breath of heaven at last Le ts flye more fierce and blowes a stronger blast All on a sudden darkned was the Sky With gloomy clouds heavens more refulgent eye Was all obscur'd The aire grew damp and cold And strong mouth'd Bâ—reas could no longer hold Eolus le ts loose his uncontrouled breath Whose language threatens nothing under death The Rudder failes The ship's at random driven The eye no object ownes but Sea and Heaven The Welkin stormes and rages more and more The raine powres down the heavens begin to rore As they would split the massie Globe in sunder From those that live above to those live under The Pilot's frighted knowes not what to doe His Art 's amaz'd in such a maze of woe Faces grow sad
Through his distemper'd passion home he went Where to asswage the swelling of his sorrow With words the poorest helps distress can borrow His wife and friends he summon'd to partake His cause of discontent and thus be spake See see how Fortune with a lib'rall hand Hath with the best and sweetest of the Land Crown'd my desiers and hath timely blowne My budded hopes whose ripenesse hath out-growne The limits and the height of expectation Scarce to be had but in a Contemplation See see how Fortune to inlarge his breath And make me living in despight of Death Hath multiply'd my loynes that after-Fame May in my flocke preserve my blood my Name To make my honour with my fortunes even â—ehold my gracious Lord the King hath given And trusted to my hand the sword of Pow'r Or life or death lies where I laugh or lowre Who stands more gracious in my Princes eye How frownes the King if Haman be not by Ester the Queene hath made the King her Guest And wisely weighing how to grace the Feast With most advantage hath in policy Invited me And no man else but I Onely a fit Companion for a King May taste the secrets of the banquetting â— Yet what availes my wealth my place my might How can I relish them with what delight What pleasure it in dainties if the taste Be in it selfe distemper'd Better fast In many sweets one sowre offends the pallate One loaâ—â—some weed annoyes the choycest Sallat What are my riches what my honourd Place What are my Children or my Princes Grace So long as cursed Mordecai survives Whose very breath inâ—ects whose life deprives My life of blisse and visage sternely strikes Worse venome to mine eyes then Basiliskes When Haman then had launc'd his ripned griefe In bloody termes they thus apply'd reliefe Erect a Gibbet fifty Cubits hie Then urge the King what will the King deny When Haman sues that slavish Mordecai Be hang'd thereon his blood will soone allay The heat of thine his cursed death shall fame The highnâ—sse of thy power and his shame So when thy suit shall find a faire event Goe banquet with the King and live content The Councell pleas'd The Gibber fairly stands Soone done as said Revenge finds nimble hands Meditat. 12 SOme Ev'ls I must approve al Goods I dare not Some are seem not good some seem are not In choosing goods my heart will make the choyce My flattring eye shall have no casting voyce No outward sense may choose an inward blisse For seeming Happinesse least happy is The eye the chiefest Cinque-port of the Heart Keepes open doores and playes the Traytors part Le ts painted pleasures in to bribe th' Affections Which masks foule faces under false complexions It hath no pow'r to judge nor can it see Things as they are but as they seeme to be There 's but one happinesse one perfect blisse But how obtain'd or where or what it is The world of nature ne're could apprehend Grounding their labours on no other end Than bare opinion diversly affecting Some one thing some another still projecting Prodigious fancies till their learned Schooles Lent so much knowledge as to make them fooles One builds his blisse upon the blaze of glory Can perfect happinesse be transitory In strength another summes Felicity What horse is not more happy farre than he Some pile their happinesse on heapes of wealth Which sicke they 'd loath if gold could purchase health Some in the use of beautie place their end Some in th' enjoyment of a Courtly friend Like wasted Lampes such happinesses smother Age puffeth out the one and wants the other The happinesse whose worth deserves the name Of chiefe with such a fier doth inflame The brests of mortalls that heav'n thinkes it fit That men should rather thinke than taste of it All earthly joyes some â—ther aime intend This for it selfe's desir'd no other end Those if enjoy'd are crost with discontent If not in the pursuit in the event This truly good admits no contrarietie Without defect or yet a loath'd â—aciety ¶ The least is more than my desert can claime Thankfull for both at this alone I aime THE ARGVMENT The King askes Haman what respects Befits the â—an that he affects And with that â—onour doth appay The good deserts of Mordecai Sect. 13. NOw when as Morpheus Sâ—rjeant of the night Had laid his mace upon the dawning light And with his Iustlesse limbes had closly spred The sable Curtaines of his drouzy Bed The King slept not but indispos'd to rest Disguised thoughts within his troubled brest Kept midnight Revells Wherefore to recollect his randome thought He gave command the Chronicles be brought And read before him where with good attention He mark'd how Mordecai with faire prevention Of a foule treason 'gainst his blood intended His life and state had loyally defended Whereat the King impatient to repay Such faithfull service with the least delay Gently demands what thankfull recompence What worship or deserved reverence Equivalent to such great service hath Iustly repaid this loyall Liege-mans faith They answer'd None Now Haman fully bent To give the vessell of his poison vent Stood ready charg'd with full Revenge prepar'd To beg his life whom highly to reward The King intends Say Haman quoth the King What worship or what honourable thing Best fits the person whom the King shall place Within the bounty of his highest Grace So Haman thus be thought Whom more than I Deserves the Sun-shine of my Princes eye Whom seekes the King to honour more than me From Hamans mouth shall Haman honour'd be Speake freely then And let thy tongue proclame An honour suting to thy worth thy name So Haman thus This honour this respect Be done to him the King shall most affect In Robes Imperiall be his body drest And bravely mounted on that very Beast The King bestrides then be the Crowne of State Plac'd on his lofty browes let Princes waite Vpon his Stirrop and in triumph leade This Impe of Honour in Assuerus flead And to expresse the glory of his name Like Heralds let the Princes thus proclame This peerlesse honour and these Princely rites Be done to him in whom the King delights Said then the King O sudden change of Fate Within the Portall of our Palace Gate There sits a Iew whose name is Mordecai Beâ—he the man Let no perâ—erse delay Protract But what thy lavish tongue hath said Doe thou to him So Haman sore dismaid His tongue ty'd to his Roofe made no reply But neither daring answer not deny Perforce obey'd and so his Page became Whose life he sought to have bereav'd with shame The Rites solemniz'd Mordecai return'd Vnto the Gate Haman went home and mourn'd His visage muffled in a mournfull vale And told his wife this melancholy Tale Whereat amaz'd and startled at the newes Despairing thus she spake If from the Iewes This Mordecai derive his happy line His be the palme of victory not thine The highest heavens
not doe What then is man but Nothing being Evill His Lunatike affections doe unlevell What Heaven created by just Waight and measure In pleasures sinke he takes a swine like Pleasure His span of life and beauties like a Flower Faire flourishing and fading in an hower He breakes into the world with teares and then Departs with Griefe not knowing how nor when His life 's a Bubble full of seeming Blisse The more it lengthens the more short it is Begot in darknesse he 's brought forth and cries For succour passes ore the stage and dyes Yet like a Moale the earth he undermines Making the World the Forge of his designes He plots complots for esees prevents directs Hee hopes he feares he doubts pursues effects Each hath his plot each one his course doth bend Each hath his project and each one his end Thus restlesse man doth still his soule molest To finde out that which hath no being Rest Thus travels sinfull man in endlesse toyle Taking a pleasure in his owne turmoyle Fond man first seeke to purchase that divine And sacred prize and all the world is thine Great Salomon made suit for Wisdome and he found Not barely Wisdome but that Wisdome crown'd With Diadems of wealth and faire encrease Of Princely Honour with long dayes of Peace With safe respect and awfull reverence To Myst'ries Meditation doth commence An earnest doubt Was Iobs dispoiled Flock Restored double Was his former Stock Renew'd with double vantage Did heaven adde To all his fortunes double what he had Yet those sweet Emblemes of his dearest love His sonnes whom death untimely did remove From off the face of the unthankfull earth Why likewise sprang not they in double birth Bruit beasts that perish once are lost for ever Their substance and their All consumes together Once having given a farewell to the light They dye and with them is perpetuall night But man unorgan'd by the hand of Death Dyes not is but transplanted from beneath Into a fairer soyle or as a stranger Brought home secure from the worlds pleasing danger Iobs flocks were lost and therefore double given His Issue 's equall shar'd 'twixt Earth and Heaven One halfe in heav'n are glorious in their doome Ingag'd as Pledges till the other come Great God! my Time 's but short and long my way My Heart hath lost her Path and gone astray My spirit 's faint and fraile my soule 's imbost If thou helpe not I am for ever lost Though Dust and Ashes yet I am thy Creature Howe're my sinnes are great thy Mercie 's greater Of nothing didst thou make me and my sinne Hath turn'd me back to nothing once agin Create me a new heart great God inspire My cold affections with thy sacred fire Instruct my Will and rectifie my Wayes O teach me Lord to number out my Dayes The Digestion of the whole HISTORY 1 In Prosperity THou whose lank fortunes heav'n hath swel'd with store Make not thy selfe by over-wishing poore Husband that good which else abuse makes bad Abstracting where thy base desire would adde Lines flowing from a Sophoclean quill Deserve no Plaudit being acted ill 2 In Adversity Hath heav'n withdrawn the talent he hath giv'n thee Hath envious Death of all thy Sons bereaven thee Have soule Diseases foil'd thee on the floore He earnes no sweet that never tasted sowre Thou art a Scholler if thy Tutor doe Pose thee too hard he will instruct thee too 3 In Tentation Art thou oppos'd to thine unequall Foe March bravely on thy Gen'rall bids thee goe Thou art heav'ns Champion to maintain his right Who cals thee forth wil give thee strength to fight God seekes by conquest thy renowne for He Will win enough Fight thou or Faint or Flee 4 In Slander If Winter fortunes nip thy Summer Friends And tip their tongues with Censure that offends Thy tender Name despaire not but be wise Know Heaven selecteth whom the world denies Thou hast a milke-white Thisâ—y that's within 〈◊〉 Will take thy part when all the world's â—giâ— thee 5 In Re-advancement Art thou advanc'd to thy supreme desier Be still the same Feare Lower aime no higher Mans Play hath many Sceanes but in the last Heaven knits up all to sweeten all that 's past Affliction is a Rod to scourge us home An 'a painfull earnest of a Heaven to come The end THE HISTORIE OF SAMSON By Fra. Quarles LONDON Printed by MILES FLESHER for I. MARRIOTT in S. Dunstans Church-yard in Fleet-street 1632. To the READER THe tyranny of my affaires was never yet so imperious but I could steale some howers to my private Meditations the fruits of which stolne time I here present thee with in the History of Samson Wherein if thy extreme severity check at any thing which thou conceivest may not stand with the Majesty of this sacred Subject know that my intention was not to offend my brother The wisest of Kings inspired by the King of Wisdome thought it no detraction from the gravity of his Holy Proverbs to describe a Harlot like a Harlot Her whorish Attire her immodest Gesture her bold Countenance her flattering Tongue her lascivious Embraces her unchast Kisses her impudent Invitations If my descriptions in the like kinde offend I make no question but the validitie of my Warrant will give a reasonable satisfaction He that lifts not his feet high enough may easily stumble But on the contrary if any be whose worse then sacrilegious minds shall prophane our harmles intentions with wanton conceits to such I heartily wish a Procul Ite Let none such looke farther then this Epistle at their own perils If they doe let them put off their shoos for this is holy Ground Foule hands will muddle the clearest waters base minds will corrupt the purest Text If any offence be taken it is by way of stealth for there is none willingly given I write to Bees and not to Spiders They will sucke pleasing honey from such flowers These may burst with their owne poyson But you whose well-seasond hearts are not distempered with either of these extremities but have the better relish of a Sacred understanding draw neere and reade I Sing th' illustrious and renowned Story Of mighty Samson The eternall glory Of his Heroicke acts His life His death Quicken my Muse with thy diviner breath Great God of Muses that my prosp'rous Riâ—es May live and last to everlasting times That they unborne may in this sacred Story Admire thy goodnes and advance thy glory THE HISTORIE OF SAMSON THE ARGVMENT A holy Angell doth salute The wife of Manoah and inlarge Her barren wombe with promis'd fruit Of both their loynes The Angles charge Sect. 1. WIthin the Tents of Zorah dwelt a man Of Iacobs seed and of the Tribe of Dâ—n Knowne by the name of Maenoah to whom Heaven had deny'd the treasure of the wombe His Wife was barren And her prayers could not Remove that great reproach or clense that blot Which on her fruitlesse name appear'd
And froÌ„ their ragged wounds they suck forth blood The father dies and leaves his pined Coarse T' inrich his Heire with meat The hungry Nurse Broyles her starv'd suckling on the hastie coales Devoures one halfe and hides the rest in holes O Tyrant Famine that compell'st the Mother To kill one hungry Childe to feed another ELEG 11. LAment O sad Ierusalem lament O weepe if all thy teares be yet unspent Weepe wasted Iudâ—h let no drop be kept Vnshed let not one teare be left unwept For angry heaven hath nothing left undone To bring thy ruines to perfection No curse no plague the fierce Almighty hath Kept backe to summe the totall of his wrath Thy Citie burnes thy Sion is dispoyld Thy Wives are ravisht and thy Maides defil'd Famine at home the Sword abroad destroyes thee Thou cry'st to heav'n heav'n his â—are denies thee ELEG 12. MAy thy dull senses O unhappy Nation Possest with nothing now but desolation Collect their scatter'd forces and behold Thy novell fortunes ballanc'd with the old Couldst thou ô could thy prosp'rous heart coÌ„ceive That mortall powre or art of State could reive Thy ' illustrious Empire of her sacred glory And make her ruines the Threnâ—dian story Of these sad times and ages yet to be Envie could pine but never hope to see Thy buildings crusht and all that glory ended Which Man so fortifyde and Heav'n defended ELEG 13. NE're had the splendor of thy bright renowne Beene thus extinguisht ludah Thy fast Crowne Had ne're beene spurn'd from thy Imperiall brow Plenty had nurs'd thy soule thy peacefull plough Had fill'd thy fruitfull Quarters with encrease Hadst thou but knowne thy selfe and loved peace But thou hast broke that sacred truce concluded Betwixt thy God and thee vainly deluded Thy selfe with thine own strength with deadly feud Thy furious Priests and Prophets have pursude The mourning Saints of Sion and did sâ—ay All such as were more just more pure then they ELEG 14. O How the Priests of Sion whose pure light Should shine to such as grope in Errors night And blaze like Lampâ— before the darkned eye Of Ignorance to raise up those that lie In dull despaire and guide those feet that strey Ay me How blinde how darke how dull are they Fierce rage fury drives them through the street And like to mad men stabbe at all they meet They weare the purple Livery of Death And live themselves by drawing others breath Say wasted Sion could Revenge behold So foule an acted Scene as this and hold ELEG 15. PRophets and sacred Priests whose tongues whilere Did often whisper in th'Eternalls eare Disclos'd his Oracles found ready passage Twixt God and Man to carry heavens Embassage Are now the subjects of deserved scorne Of God forsaken and of man forlorne Accursed Gentiles are asham'd to know What Sions Priests are not asham'd to doe They see and blush and blushing flee away Fearing to touch things so defil'd as they They hate the filth of their abomination And chace them forth from their new conquer'd nation ELEG 16. QVite banisht from the joyes of earth and smiles Of heaven and deeply buried in her spoiles Poore Iudah lies unpitied disrespected Exil'd the World of God of Man rejected Like blasted eares among the fruitfull wheat She roames disperst and hath no certaine seat Her servile neck 's subjected to the yoake Of bondage open to th' impartiall stroake Of conquering Gentiles whose afflicting hand Smites every nooke of her disguised Land Of Youth respectlesse nor regarding Yeeres Nor Sex nor Tribe like scourging Prince Peers ELEG 17. REnt and deposed from Imperiall state â—y heavens high hand on heaven we must await To him that struck our sorrowes must appeale Where heaven hath smitâ— no hand of man can heale In vaine our wounds expected mans reliefe For disappointed hopes renew a griefe Aegypt opprest us in our fathers loynes What hope 's in Aegypt Nay if Aegypt joynes Her force with Iudah our united powres Could nere prevaile 'gainst such a foe as our's Aegypt that once did feele heavens scourge for grieving His flock would now refinde it for reliving ELEG 18. SO the quick-sented Beagles in a view O're hill and dale the fleeing Chase pursue As swift-foot Death and Ruine follow me That flees afraid yet knowes not where to flee Flee to the fields There with the sword I meet And like a Watch Death stands in every street No covert hides from death no Shade no Cells So darke wherein not Death and Horror dwells Our dayes are numbred and our number 's done The empty Houre-glasse of our glorie 's run Our sins are summ'd and so extreame 's the score That heauen could not doe lesse nor hell do more ELEG 19. TO what a downfall are our fortunes come Subjected to the suffrance of a doome Whose lingring torments Hell could not conspire More sharp than which hell needs no other fire How nimble are our Foemen to betray Our soules Eagles are not so swift as they Where shall we flee Or where shall sorrow finde A place for harbour Ah what prosp'rous winde Will lend a gale whose bounty ne're shall cease Till we be landed on the I le of peace My foes more fierce than empty Lions are For hungry Lions woo'd with teares will spare ELEG 20. VSurping Gentiles rudely have engrost Into their hands those fortunes we have lost Devoure the fruits that purer hands did plant Are plump and pampred with that bread we want And what is worse than death a Tyrant treads Vpon our Throne Pagans adorne their heads With our lost crowns their powers have dis-jointed The Members of our State and Heavens Anointed Their hands have crusht ravisht from his throne And made a Slave for Slaves to tread upon Needs must that flock be scattred and accurst where wolves have dar'd to seize the Shepherd first ELEG 21. WAxe fat with laughing Edom with glad eies Behold the fulnesse of our miseries Triumph thou Type of Antichrist and feed Thy soule with joy to see thy brothers â—eed Ruin'd and rent and rooted from the earth Make haste and solace thee with early mirth But there 's a time shall teachâ—thee how to weepe As many teares as I thy lips as deepe Shall drinke in sorrowes Cup as mine have done Till then cheere up thy spirits and laugh on Offended Iustice often strikes by turnes Edom â—eware for thy next neighbour burnes ELEG 22. YE drooping sonnes of Sion O arise And shut the flood-gates of your flowing eyes Surcease your sorrowes and your joyes attend For heaven hath spoke it and your griefes â—â—al end Beleeve it Sion seeke no curious signe And wait heav'ns pleasure as heav'n waited thine And thou triumphing Edâ—m that dost lye In beds of Roses thou whose prosp'rous eye Did smile to see the Gates of Sion fall Shalt be subjected to the selfe-fame thrall Sion that weepes shall smile and Edoms eye That smiles so fast as fast shall shortly cry The Prophet Ieremie his