Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
Text snippets containing the quad
|
ID |
Title |
Author |
Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
STC |
Words |
Pages |
|
A19051
|
Hebdomada sacra: A weekes deuotion: or, Seuen poeticall meditations vpon the second chapter of St. Matthewes gospell. Written, by Roger Cocks.
|
Cocks, Roger, fl. 1630-1642.
|
1630
(1630)
|
STC 5467; ESTC S118643
|
39,040
|
84
|
Abrahams bosome you securely rest Faire Infants whom the ancient Church did hold The Flowers of Martyrs sprung vp in the cold Of vnbeliefe whose buds were â—pt to death Flores martyrum Aug. By frost like persecutions bitter breath O how your death due prayse to Christ affords Sanguine non lingua passione non Sermone Chrysost By blood not tongue in wounds and not in words When greedy Wolfe the Lambe doth beare away The tender flesh torne by his teeth some say In taste if eaten men shall sweeter finde Then others killed whole of the same kind This obseruation whether true or no Is not materiall any way to know Certaine it is the flesh of these brought vnder The fangs of woluish Herod torne asunder Was sweet vnto the Lord and gaue delight For death of Saints is pretious in his sight That children should teach men may seeme ' gainst sence Yet we may learne froÌ„ them faire innocence In all our sufferings must companion be For if we suffer ought deseruedly With these we can expect no Crowne to take The cause not crosse doth a true martâ—r make Causa non poenafacit Martyrem August If that be good though Herods doe conspire Against our liues and threaten sword or fire They may our bodies not our soules distresse And their hate shall but worke our happinesse Our crosse shall crowne vs and the death they giue Shall be a meanes to make vs euer liue Now was fulfill'd that fatall Prophecy Which was foretold of yore by Jeremy Ier. 30. 15. A voice was heard in Rama whose dire sound In woe and lamentation did abound Among those mothers which were childlesse made Rachel was one whom griefe did so inuade That shunning company she seem'd to liue As she were borne for nothing but to grieue A shady Groue neare her now hated-home A neighbour stood there did she often rome In that thicke Couert which made day like night She sought to hide her from all humane sight Sometime she sets her downe close by the foote Of a faire spreading tree vpon whose roote With nimble hand she 'gins to carue her woes But ere she halfe haue done her passion growes To such a height she marres what she hath made Then with sterne rage the barke she doth inuade Stabbing and mangling of it without stint As if her Infants wounds she there could print Starting at this as if feare wings did borrow She fled as if she would out-run her sorrow At last a burbling Brooke she doth espie Whose noise she thought did hold fit sympathy With her in mourning there she stayes her pace And seated neare it doth extend her face Ouer the current hauing fixt her looke A while vpon the Streame she chides the Brooke For his to speedy passage Stay O stay Thy course relentlesse Torrent did she say And carry my complaints with thee along My words although my woes shall not be long Say that a Mother of two hopefull twinnes Rob'd of that haâ—lesse issue for her sinnes Will neuer cease to mourne their bloody death Till the iust heauens in pitty stop her breath And for this kindnesse I to thee will pay My teares as a due tribute euery day This said her eyes a liquid shewre distill As they the Fountaine were the Streame to fill All that was done which she thought vndescried By a neere Kinsman of hers was espied Who now approacht and sitting downe beside her In this milde manner did begin to chide her For shame at last leaue to be thus alone And vnto sencelesse things to vent your mone Your faith and patience I once thought more strong Griefes that recurelesse are should not be long By your immoderate sorrow you offend The highest Powers and hasten on your end Beside such griefe is vaine whether the dead Or else the liuing be considered The first if they die well are blest if faile Of a good end our teares will nought auaile Your Infants death in innocency found This should you rather comfort then confound The body the soules prison's said to be Now it is death which sets this prisoner free Who mournes for the enlargement of his child But 't is the bodies death that makes you wild If it be so O be no longer sory That falls to rise againe in greater glory Who grieues to see a house puld to the ground Which shall he knowes be better built Some bound Set to your sorrow then God will restore The body farre more glorious then before Looke on your selfe and you will find it vaine So great a griefe so long to entertaine For shoulâ— your teares in as great plenty fall As blood did from your Infants could they call Your children backe to life no though you mourne And pine to nothing they shall nere returne Take comfort then lest if you sorrow still You seeme to spurne against Iehouahs will The griâ—ued Mother who had all this while In much impatience heard him with a smile Borrowed from scorne thus answered that they liue In health can easily good counsell giue To such as languish in disease and paine And they as hardly doe it entertaine Words are but words I neuer yet could heare That the grieu'd heart was cured by the eare Aswell may he which hath desire to eate Be satisfied by seeing painted meat Or he that is through cold like to expire Warme his numbe limbes at the Apes Gloworme fire As I from cold and painted comfort finde A medicine to recure my thought sicke minde Withall that I can from poore patience borrow I cannot pay so great a debt of sorrow In vaine you waste your words my woes are more Then time can weare away therefore giue ore Your fruitlesse counsell since my children are not Though I consume my selfe in griefe I care not Sorrow hath tane possession in my brest And onely can by death be dispossest When she had spoken thus in hasty mood She runnes and hides her in the thickest Wood But while to trees she doth her woes rehearse To other matters I must turne my Verse Saturdaies Meditation or the seuenth Canto The Argument An Angell doth to Ioseph tell The death of Herod Israel He longs to visit once againe Nazareth doth him entertaine NOw was the time that the Lord meant to take Vengeance on Herod therefore he did make By iust permission his owne issue striue How he might him of Crowne and life depriue Herod while these foule treasons were a breeding Got notice of Antipaters proceeding So was his base sonne call'd the yrkesome thought Of this vnnaturall action quickly brought Sicknesse of minde vpon him and that soare Encreasing God did yet afflict him more And on his body lay a foule disease A secret fire he had whose heate appease No course of Physicke could though much he tride Iosep de Bello Iud. lib. 1. All was in vaine the flame did quenchlesse bide His bowels full of paine did not within And wormes to swarme about him did
he resoluâ—s in rage anâ— what that still To rash attempts a Counsellor full ill Suggests vnto him he in action brings So soone men execute the will of Kings And now come other actors on the stage The bloâ—dy instruments of Herod rage Made ready to present vnto our eye A tragicke â—ceane of horrid cruelty Not to examine who they were we see Subiect and King full well and ill agree Tyrants doe neuer want fit Instruments To execute their very worst intents Would wicked Saul haue the Lords Priests be slaine Doeg the motion soone will entertaine Doth Dauid plot to stop Vrâ—ahs breath Joab will set him in the face of death Doth Iezabell ' gainst Naboths life conspire The elders will effect her lewde desire The world yet neuer knew a Prince so vicious But that he should haue men to be officious Such as account it an especiall grace To doe their Lords will be it nere so base The officers of Herod bare this mind Ready to goe when he their warrant sign'd And now suppose them vnto Bethlehem come Ready to act the tyrants fatall doome While the Sunne hides his head at such a sight As if a Noone he meant to make it night And with blacke clouds did couer his sad face Grieuing that men should haue so little grace The melting heauens doe also showre downe raine As if they wept for the poore Infants paine Euen the walles there in a cold dew stood As struck with horror to see so much blood Yet these feele no remorce nor once desist From the commanded murther but persist In that abhorred worke of cruelty Which shall them brand with lasting infamy With their swords drawne that none this course may stay Into mens houses they do force their way Here they an Infant from the cradle snatch There from the fathers armes another catch And the poore childrens sad destruction wrought Ere the amazed parents had a thought Of any danger neere some they transpierce With their blood thirsting sword others in fierce And sauage manner they deuide asunder While they that own them stand stone still in wonder Me thinkes in one place I some father heare At his deare Infants danger struck with feare Like Nisus in the Poet or more milde Crie out vnto the Butcher of his childe O spare my sonne or if you blood must spill Here turne your swords the grieued father kill I might he durst not could not entertaine A thought of wrong vnto his Soâ—eraigne Me thinkes I in another place behold An Infant stab'd whose pretty armes lay hold About his mothers breast whence he doth draine Milke that in blood runs out as fast againe While the affrighted mother with her hands Heau'd vp like Niobe turn'd Marble stands In euery place that doth afford an age Markt out for slaughter death and fury rage While the poore soules some for their mothers crying Some smiling on their murderers are dying O here a while your speedy haste forbeare Compassionate parents and vouchsafe a teare Thinke but what sad what soule affrighting sight These saw when they were rob'd of their delight Suppose your Infants whom you highly prize Snatcht from your armes and slaine before your eyes What would you doe in such a case as this Nay what would you not doe surely amisse I doe conceiue or else your sorrow would Be greater farre then all their suffering could While from their pretty eyes salt teares did trill Your pierced hearts would liquid blood distill And euery wound their bodies should receiue FroÌ„ murderers hands your very soules would cleaue And yet behold such was the wofull state Of that late happy Citie fortunate Erst in her Sauiour who there first drew breath But now most wretched in her childrens death Whilest by this fearefull act of sinne and shame Of Bethlehem a Bethauen it became But not this bloody act could yet asswage Either their cruelty or Herods rage No the neare Villages in her hard fate The wofull City must associate Not one poore cottage can keepe out pale death Wherein a child sucks in an infant breath They passe through all the coasts about and striue That not one Infant may be left aliue Their charge so ready are they to fulfill And satisfie the Tyrant in his will O mercilesse and matchlesse murderers How can you thinke whâ—n iustice once preferres A bill against your liues and death you brings Fore the Tribunall of the King of Kings To answer this foule act when their blood cries To Heauen for vengeance it will not suffice That you had Herods Warrant Gods Command Did you knew well ' gainst murder firmely stand But how haue I forgot you all this while Poore Innocents delay must not beguile You of your worthy suffering ample glory The which alone deserues to make a story The Church on blood and the not doing wrong But suffering for it hath foundation strong By persecution she receiues renowne And martyrdome giues her a glorious Crowne The blood of Abel at the Worlds creation Of this truth giues a pregnant demonstration So likâ—wise in the Gospels pupiâ—lage The blood of Infants slaine by Herods rage There be two colours which God much delight And they are white and red first the pure white Of innocence then martyrdomes blood red And bâ—th these in the Infants largely spread Not all the coates though quartered nere so faire Wâ—â—re men thâ—ir armes emblazon to repaire Th 〈…〉 â—â—â—try of their Family Which time would weare out but for Heraldry Are halfe so glorious as those faire Armes were These Innocents did in their Scutcheon beare For crosse of Gules in Argent field they carry Versus est vagitus in gaâ—dium luctus in iubilum Cyprian O paruuli beati nunquam tentati multum luctati â—am coronati Augustine Well may their Crest be a rich Crowne of glory Some doubt but such either doe iudgement want Or else of charitie are wondrous scant Whether these Infants here depriu'd of breath Were sau'd or no from an eternall death But what should this strange dubitation breed Is not Gods promise made vnto the seed Of faithfull parents Were not these receiu'd Into the couenant ere of life bereau'd They were they were therefore their cry did turne To ioy and they now laugh who then did mourne O blessed Infants whom the cunning Diuell By his temptation neuer led to euill With death you struggled hard and for that strife You are now crowned with immortall life Sure Herods flattery could nere haue wrought you So great a blessing as his fury brought you O blessed age which could not speake Christs Name Yet was thought worthy to die for the same Sure you were borne in a thrice happy time Felicities high toy so soone to clime You are scarce past the threshold of your birth When life comes forth to meet you and from earth Takes you to heauen you doe no sooner leaue Your infant cradles but a Throne receiue In stead of hanging at your mothers breast In