ââ¦nd seekest other waies these things for to obtaine ãâã fond and frantike is thy wit so feeble is thy braine Which way thou car'st not how rather than come to me Being the well and fountaine spring of all good things that be I also readie am on thee for to bestow Each good that is if thou but aske I must my kindnesse show Such is my loue to thee not changeable but sure I loued thee before thou wast which loue shall stil endure When thou a sinner wert and wickednesse didst vse To giue my bloud and life for thee the same did not refuse Thou art now iustifide by shedding of my bloud And reconciled by my death wherein thou art made good For I that knew not sin was yet made sinne for thee That thou mightst be the righteousneâ⦠of th'onlie God in mee And I doe thee assure it did me greatlie please To beare thy sin and wickednes thy weakenes and disease ââ¦ou but trust in me ââ¦d stedfastlie beleeue ââ¦re shal no torment paine or smart ââ¦r any sinne thee greeue ãâã through my special grace ââ¦nd mercies great in store ââ¦omise thee I will henceforth ââ¦inke on thy sinne no more ãâã in the deepe alow ââ¦nd bottome of the Sea ââ¦ue all thine iniquities ââ¦or euer throwne awaie ââ¦y doost thou toile and moile ââ¦nd after shadowes run ââ¦d shun'st the waie that leads to me ââ¦hich am Gods onlie sonne ãâã the giuer sure ââ¦f true felicitie ââ¦d yet for it be very few ââ¦hat seeketh vnto me ââ¦utie allureth much ââ¦nd rauisheth the mind ââ¦d drawes vnto it flockes of men that louing seeme and kind ââ¦dlo behold and view nothing more faire to see ââ¦an I and yet not one there is will be in loue with me In honourable stiles doe many take delight And of ancient nobilitie doe claime descents by right And yet nothing there is of ancient high degree In title stile or chiefe descent that goeth before me For while I am the sonne of God most glorious And mother mine a virgine was and my name is Iesus Which name was giuen to me not vnaduisedly Nor at aduenture and by chance as names are commonly Nor was it giuen by man but by an angel sent To tell of my Natiuitie the purpose and intent And vnder heauen there is none other name but this Giuen vnto men their soules to saue from all their trespasses How hapneth it therefore that scarsely on the ground Can any one that willing is to ioyne with me be found ââ¦his societie ââ¦hich I so much desire ãâã not for me but for your good ââ¦hat I the same require ãâã the Monarch cheese of heauen of earth all ââ¦y then are you so loth and shamde to come when I you call ââ¦m most rich indeed and ready for to giue ââ¦th great and many benefites to all in saith that liue ââ¦reatly doe desire and very faine would haue ââ¦titions made that I might giue to such as on me craue ââ¦t now alas behold not one that vnderstands ââ¦ow for to aske nor come to me to craue ought at my hands ââ¦m the wisedome cal'd of God my father deare ââ¦nd so I am in very deed and yet for loue ne feare ââ¦ill any mortall wight vouchsafe to seeke me out ââ¦o aske me counsell of that thing whereof he is in doubt I am the brightnesse great of fathers glorie mine And of his heauenlie maiesty the image most diuine And yet no man thereby of what estate or gree The more to honour mooued is nor yet to reuerence me I am a pleasant friend a trustie friend also To him that willing is to be my friend and with me go I doe bestow my wealth my riches and my store On them I loue with willing mind what can be asked more And yet none goes about to enter in with me To this sweet amiable league of friendships high degree I am the only waie that vnto heauen doth lead And yet but very few there be that vse my pathes to tread Why doe the ignorant bââ¦tred people blind Not trust in me seeing I am the only truth to find ãâã then doost thou refuse ââ¦y promise to beleeue ââ¦e is so saithfull as I am ââ¦d none may more thee greeue ãâã sithe I am of life ââ¦e author and of breath ââ¦t meane you then by leauing me ãâã follow after death ãâã your only light ãâã darkenesse is in me ãâã yet will wilfull foolish men ãâã darkenesse rather be ãâã the perfect rule ãâã liuing righteouslie ãâã then doost thou seek other formes ãâã square thy life thereby ââ¦ely am alone ââ¦e pleasure sweet and true ââ¦hout all gall or bitternesse ââ¦iected yet of you ãâã the peace of mind ââ¦nd comforter likewise ââ¦ll afflicted consciences ââ¦hen stormie troubles rise ââ¦y then doe not these men ââ¦hat vexed be in mind ââ¦e vnto me for their releefe ââ¦hich they are sure to find If Lyons wilde and dumbe themselues can thankefull show To such as any benefite vpon them did bestow Or if the Dragons fierce haue gratefull learn'd to bee Or mastife curs their masters know and fawne when they him see If Eagles loue returne to such as keepe them well And Dolphins likewise kindnesse ãâã as you your selues can tell If other beastes likewise depri'ud of reasons sence Can to their benefactors vse both loue and reuerence Why wilt thou then ô Man thy selfe set forth to be More brutish than the sauage beastâ⦠denying loue to me Seeing that to thy vse and onely for thy sake All things that be yea thou thy selfe of nothing did I make And with my precious bloud redeemed thee haue I From sin from death from hell pâ⦠and that most willingly And if the oxe doth know his owner that him sed The asse likewise his maisters crib that standeth him in stead Why doost not thou vnkind and churlish man to mee Acknowledge me to be the same that hath redeemed thee am alone to thee all things that thou would haue And I alone will furnish thee with all things thou canst craue Why runnest thou about gadding from place to place To seeke elsewhere thy benesit distrusting of my grace Why busiest thou thy selfe in many needlesse waies And dost frequent the companie of skornefull wicked straies As I am mercifull so easie to intreat Thou wretched man seeke vnto me despaire not though I threat Yea sith I am the iust reuenger of thy sin Why therefore art thou not afraid me to offend therein I can euen with a becke cast downe thy soule to hell And yet my iudgements searest not nor all the thrents I tell Wherefore thou foolish man if thou so wilfull be Headlong to run vnto thy death by thy forsaking me Blame but thy selse therefore and blame not me at all For thou thy selfe the author art of thy decaie and fall For what can I doe more seeing th' excessiue loue That I thee bare with tender care can no whit thee remoue O flintie harted man with rockie stonie brest Which
and guilt life God knowes is short ââ¦certaine of the same ââ¦inke on time so vainlie spent ââ¦ight make vs blush with shame ãâã sleepe let vs awake ââ¦d rise from sin at last ãâã time it is for to repent ââ¦r former follies past youth hath taken horsse ââ¦d posteth day by daie ââ¦ite and summon pale face death ââ¦th speed to come away ââ¦th is the true refuge ââ¦e onely perfect health dooth deserue to be embrast ââ¦fore all worldlie wealth ââ¦th is the thing most deare ââ¦e best thing to be had a thing that God hath giuen ââ¦herewith to make vs glad ââ¦an with his estate ââ¦ntented is we see ãâã those that lie asleepe in graue ââ¦ey well contented be graue is a strong fort ââ¦herein our selues we shut ãâã the assaults of yrkesome life ââ¦d broiles of Fortunes cut The dead we know doo rest as in a hauen of ease Where those that liue doe saile inâ⦠of rough and raging seas Death is vnto the euill a whip of smarting paine And to the good a sweet reward of euerlasting gaine THe common custome is to flatter them that liue And of the dead reprochfull words and ill reports to giue But sure the fault is great to speake ill of the dead Who harme them not but quietlie doe rest within their bed As no man is so good but better might haue beene So no man liues that is so bad but worsser name might win For as there is some cause a man for to dispraise So in the same some vertue dwels that his renowme might raise And therefore of the dead I wish to speake the best And praise the vertues which they ãâã and let their vices rest ââ¦s our course direct ââ¦ile perfect mind we haue set our compasse toward Christ ââ¦o onely must vs saue ââ¦im from henceforth now ââ¦r onely studie be pleasant muse our cheese delight ââ¦r ioy and libertie ââ¦s not care at all ââ¦r worldlie matters vaine for the bodie so the soule ââ¦th Iesus Christ remaine ââ¦e soule and bodie both ââ¦ll at the iudgement daie ââ¦ed be and sentence heare ââ¦ich Christ himselfe shall say ââ¦h grant ô father deare ãâã Christ his sake thy sonne ââ¦e vnto our endlesse ioy life that is to come Amen FINIS The spiriâ⦠God moâ⦠on the waâ⦠God saâââ the light ãâã goâ⦠did câ⦠the light daâ⦠and the dâ⦠night The light ãâã ãâã beforâ⦠the ãâã ãâã ãâã moone waâ⦠created The water in the clouds ãâã be waters of the sea riuers ãâã That is the region of the ââ¦yre and all ââ¦hat is about us ãâã God calleth ââ¦he dry land ââ¦he earth ââ¦he gathering ââ¦ogether of ââ¦aters called ãâã the seaâ⦠The earth ãâã bââ¦d ãâã of God ââght ââ¦orth ãâã ãâã ââ¦nd hearb ãâã ãâã ãâã ãâã forth ââ¦heir fruite ãâã in their ââ¦nd before ãâã moââ¦n ãâã starres ãâã created These lighâ⦠were the ãâã ãâã ãâã ãâã Both fisâ⦠and foule ãâã beginâ⦠wherin ãâã that ãâã ãâã ãâã ãâã God 's ãâã ãâã ãâã ãâã ââ¦fly the ãâã ãâã ãâã ãâã ââ¦hat is God ââ¦ue them po ââ¦er to increse ââ¦n 8 12. The creââ¦tioÌ Adam in field of ââ¦asco ãâã ãâã same he was ââ¦ught into ââ¦se sinned and the sam day after mid-day he was thrust outâ⦠Method usb The propagation of maâ⦠is the blessing of God Gen. 8. 20. 9. Gods great liberalitie to man taketh aâ⦠waie al excuses of mans ingratitude That is the ãâã the moon ââ¦he stars ââ¦nets The ãâã ãâã Goâ⦠est shew ãâã ãâã ãâã he ãâã ãâã ãâã that ãâã ãâã the ãâã be ãâã ãâã ãâã ââ¦ed ãâã ãâã ãâã tra ãâã the sin Adâ⦠the ãâã ãâã ââ¦as the fulfil ãâã and perââ¦tion of all ãâã worââ¦ââ¦if God had ãâã ended his work in mercy the 7. day abated hâ⦠hard iudgement against mankind for Adams sin his work haâ⦠not bin complet ne perâ⦠insomuch as the principâ⦠creature for whoÌ he madâ⦠all things wâ⦠lost for wheâ⦠the final caâ⦠of any thinâ⦠faileth the worke is not complete ãâã perfââ¦t
memorie is weaker than before The Thebans held a law who threescore yeares did liue If after that he then fell sicke none might him physicke giue That age obtainde say they himselfe ought not to bend Longer to liue but hasten forth vnto his iournies end Experience dooth confirme and proueth this too true That lately such as lustie were in valor strength and hue Are now through age become all crooked to behold Their heads with white bespeckled are their heat is turnde to cold The frost their beards hath caught which maketh them to thinke How that the spring of their greene age is past and still doth shrinke OFlitting youth adieu age makes all things decline O too too short a fading floure of transitorie time Which by no waie nor art can be repair'd againe The winter cold the heat hath nipt and ransackt euerie vaine O greene and sprouting yeares ô gallant youth that 's past What sweet and pleasant merry daies were spent while you did last O happy time of life how slily doth it passe And steales away making exchange for purest gold but brasse How closely is it gone and not perceiu'd at all And glides away as doe the streames which downe a riuer fall More swift it may be said than emptie clouds that flie By force of winds that tosse them rounâ⦠in compasse of the skie Like dreames that passe awaie within our sleepes we see When we awake nothing there is of that we dreamt to bee The sweet and fragrant rose now delicate in sight Within short time all withered is and turnd as daie to night And so likewise of man from child to man doth grow From man againe a childe becoms old age will haue it so WHile that the little boy with top and scurge gan plaieâ⦠And while the stripling goes to schoolâ⦠his grammer part to say While those of further yeares phylosophie doe read And cull the bloomes of Rhetorike and figures finely spread While they themselues delight ãâã in poets fables vaine ââ¦nd while they range in arguments ãâã which Logicke can maintaine ââ¦hile they the time imploie ãâã to publish matters small ââ¦hough of no weight by eloquence ãâã to shew their skill withall ââ¦hile like the bee they skip ãâã from bloome to blossome blowne ââ¦nd for their purpose sucke the fruit ãâã by sundrie authors sowne ââ¦hile they disposed so ãâã by studie to attaine ââ¦e knowledge of the liberall arts ãâã no labor doe refraine ââ¦d while that without end ãâã their troubled braines they beat ãâã find out euerie facultie ãâã grafted in science seat ââ¦ile they the Greeke translate ãâã in Latine for to goe ââ¦d Latine into Greeke likewise ãâã their cunning forth to shew ââ¦ile forren toongs they seeke ãâã their knowledge to maintaine ââ¦d feare not to transfret the seas ãâã and Alpes to clime with paine ââ¦ile they themselues acquaint with countries that be strange With forreÌ courts with things vnknâ⦠and other things of change While they thus busie be stifle age comes stealing in And laies his crutch vpon their bacâ⦠and dooth the maistrie win So much that they be driuen to maruell and to muse How that their strength so suddenly should them faile or refuse And though the same they feele yet not perswaded are That lustie gallant youth of theirs should be remoou'd so far ALas why should we then so carefullie appeare As to consume our golden age with search of trifles here As pearles and gems of price of gold and siluer pure Of scarlet silke and cloth of gold which may not long endure And wast fully consume and wilfully to spend Our golden yeares in vanities and all to no good end Againe if that those things which transitorie be ââ¦re lost or stolne or burnt with fire there is a meane we see ââ¦e same may be in time recouered againe ââ¦hou as poore as Codrus were ââ¦or Irus did remaine ââ¦t hope to be as rich ââ¦as Crassus heretofore ãâã that thy substance and thy wealth may match with Croesus store ââ¦t as for creeping age when Clotho hath begun ââ¦on hir clew thy thred to wind that Lachesis had spun ââ¦n neuer be reuok't againe to be vntwinde ââ¦no inchantment charme or force that wit of man can finde NOt Circes with hir charme nor Mercurie with his rod ââ¦or yet Medea with hir drugs can stay this worke of God Iupiter himselfe thy bellie full would fill ââ¦ith Nectar and Ambrosia which some of learned skil ââ¦aue writ that by such things youth still they might maintaine And banish old age in exile for euer to remaine No no it will not be though that Aurora faire Would day by daie thy bodie bath with deaw of heauenly aire No though ten thousand times sweet Venus for to please Thou paine thy selfe as Phao did to ferry Chyos seas No though Chiron himselfe should vnto thee applie All soueraigne hearbs that spring or ãâã on earth beneath the skie Nothing there is can stop the course of yeares that slide Nor keepe them from our weary backe but must the same abide In deed of tales we read and fables haue beene told How Orpheus and Amphion with other poets old Haue by their magicke art made riuers still to staie And to returne vnto those springs backeward another waie Diana stopt hir coach Phoebus his steeds so staid ââ¦ade his chariot still to stand ãâã listen what they said ãâã let these idle tales ãâã thought vpon no more wroght ââ¦f they could such things haue ãâã ãâã is said before ãâã might they bring ââ¦e age thou once possest keepe thee in the age thou art ââ¦ile life is in thy breast ãâã yet the sunne goes downe ââ¦d takes his beames awaie doth arise most gloriouslie ââ¦e next insuing day moone a waining hath ââ¦t afterward a change ãâã doth receiue hir former light ââ¦d reuolution strange ââ¦er growes yong againe ãâã frostie cold once spent ââ¦er turn'd into a spring ââ¦at doth vs well content yet the state of age ââ¦at flits awaie so fast ãâã when the summer time thereof ãâã once consum'd and past ãâã that the winter sharpe ââ¦th horie frost and cold ãâã the head and withered face with snow hath taken hold No hope is then at all for any spring to crie Nor yet for any Ver to come where root and stocke is drie THere resteth now but this of remedies the best Which is that death those euils shalâ⦠and set the soule at rest We learne for to be wise too late when youth is gone And doe begin to muse thereof when remedie is none We then bewaile our life in vanitie mispent And doo detest those wilfull waies we did in youth frequent We curse that now in age which youth delighted in And that which then most sweet didâ⦠is now most bitter sin The thoughts thereof torment our guiltie conscience sore With greefe and paine we doe lamenâ⦠our youth abusde before And to our selues gan saie what treasure haue we spilt And reapt thereby vnto our selues ãâã sorrow death