a Maze of sinne That 't is as farre unlikely for me worme Ere to winde out as for to raise a storme Or slacke a Tempest works of wonder stand Farre from thereach of mortalls weake command None but the hand of God his speciall grace Can pull me forth the dungeon of disgrace And shall I then in impious waies uneven Offend so good a God defend me Heav'n Ride thou my soule upon some winged cloud To'th'Haven of heaven fly to the sacred shroud Of sempeternall safety fly the sight Of blasing beautie flaring Earths delight Malicious mindes mischievous mans invention Faire lookes false hearts stampt in a soule intention Take flight my Soule fly from the dismall Den Of this darke Age the impiousnesse of men Fly from the pond'rous plummets of blacke Vice Which pulls to Hell helpe Prince of Paradise I saint I die sinne loades my soule with horrour The World the flesh and Divell all with terrour Hangs on my fetter'd limbes Prisoner to care I live sterv'd tortur'd tempted to despaire What shall I doe where whither shall I fly Here there I know not where lie downe and dye Vp soule to Heav'n there get a glorious Crowne I am too weake too vile sinne pulls me downe O my unworthynesse my shame my sinne When shall I shake thee off when when begin No wil 't not bee can I not doe the good I would must I be rul'd by flesh and blood Weepe weepe poore soule dissolve hard heart of flint Melt melt thou stony Rock teares never stint Drop Marble mount drop to a Crimson flood Sinke my sinnes in seas of penitent blood While others carelesse of celestiall health Greedie like Hell hunger for worldly wealth Preferment pride and vainely put their trust In the forbidden Pathes of tempting lust In glassie glory subtile Court behaviour In valour conquest and monarchall favour Whiles soules thus erre O thou the Lord of light Make me Heavens Champion vertues favorite Come folded Armes and you sad eyes sad heart Come soule opprest with sorrow play thy part Haste to some gloomy Grave there all alone On the greene mantled earth sigh sobbe and groane Spend precious time with sacted thoughts that beâ—â—es Heav'n in their eyes true verieâ— in their â—eares Complaine I will to Fortune not that whoâ—â— Which makes 〈◊〉 Art and pale fac'd Wisedome pooâ—â— I l'e not complaine to her but to that Ens Almighty Fortune in divinest sense Groveling on Earth for sinne I 'le cast forth groanes Sighes shall convert to Teares teares into moanes Then will I start from ground my body raise Shoote ine eyes upward against heav'n I 'le gaze Thinke on my God my God whose sacred will I have abus'd my God most just to kill Damme soule and body my rememb rance blot Out of the booke of life I that forgot In midst of all vaine joyes in temp'rate health Soule-snaring Chamb'rings lascivious stealth All-seeing Heav'n a God so greate so good The death of Iesus Christ my saviours blood Slave that I am where shall I turne mine eye Vnworthie to looke up Heav'n heare my cry Heare me Eternall Essente which hath made My soule to pray send me thy sacred aide On the bright Sun-beames of thy sweet salvation 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 draw up the dew of my devotion Mount soule upon the wings of Charity Helpe Heav'n up heart fly to Eternity Rowze like a towring Falkon in despight Of Hell and furies fly to the Makers sight Come come Lord Iesus O come thou and give Helpe to my helplessesoule I that doe live Like the distressed bird trapt in a snare Caught by a lime-twigg flying through the Aire In which distresse for comforts sweet releife Poore Innocent with wings adds woe to griefe So fares my soule striving sinnes snare to fly Trapt by deceit lives snar'd in misery My trembling conscience tells me I have beene A very fearefull finner slave to finne Of all Men most unworthy of Salvation My sinnes deserve Heavn'ns wrath hell and damnation Yet mercie mercy Lord mercy I crave Shield my sad soule from the infernall grave Strangle my growing sinnes in their beginning Demollish Lord in me custome in sinning Draw from mine eyes the vaine worlds vaine intice And ravish me with love of Paradice Busie my thoughts with vertue make me trie To live by honest meanes or let me die Pardon all idle prate sinnes rotten talke Let not my steps treade that accursed walke Which leads to lewdnesse base delights in pleasure Desire of Pompe vaine glory tottering treasure Let not my wandring eyes flame in the fire Of lust-stung lookes nor let the loose desire Of Beauties Bravery burne out mine eyes With senselesse gazing Lord make me to despise All wanton waies finnes of ill govern'd youth All wicked customes ' gainst thy sacred Truth Make me my God in hate to impure lives Kicke at that life which life of heav'n deprives Deale not Lord deale not with me as my merit Truely deserves drive out that uggly spirit Of all uncleannesse from my filthy flesh My drooping soule with sanctitie refresh Shrow'd me beneath thy sacred Countenance Give me thy servant Davids repentance The Faith of Abraham holy Jacobs strife Blest Stephens Charity chaste Iosephs life The Patience of Iob Pauls purity And soule-afflicted Peters weeping Eye With holy Teares Lord make me to reject The Sinne I impious sinner most affect O thou the King of those Eternall fires That spangles Heav'n good God grant my desires Infuse in me thy Grace or I shall stray And so become a fearefull Cast-away I that am poore weake feeble and too apt By the worlds whorish wales to be intrapt Beseech thy pardon forgive my coldnesse In serving thee pardon that damned boldnesse Let Mercy every Evening which does keepe Me from day-dangers death-resembling sleepe Be to my soule a Prayer booke to imprint Teares in mine Eyes griefe in my heart of flint Be it so Mighty Maker unto mee To me and every one make us to see And shunne sinnes custome with thy sacred wings Guard us from dangers blessed King of Kings Thou art my onely comfort in distresse Foode rayment all my cure in heavinesse My true Physitian in unruly madnesse Soule-ravishing Musicke in my deepest sadnesse When all the world forsakes me God is kind He comfort gives to my disconsolate mind O thou the Lord of Thunder Heav'n and Earth Mercifull maker thou that didst give me breath Thou that can'st muster Angells in the Skie To safeguard soules from blacke impiety Thou that dost feede and cloath and still persever To give me health be mercifull for ever Lord teach me for to prize the world at naught Vpon thy blessednesse be all my thought Take from mine eyes the vaine worlds vaine entice And rayishme with love of Paradise Blesse me each Morne and blesse me ev'ry Ev'n Blesse Wife and Children bring us all to Heav'n In thy good time and during lifes short space Grant us Lord Iesus thy abundant grace Graft thy Grace inardly in our hearts that
wee Never like straying sheepe stray Lord from thee Heare me Miraculous Majestie and give A period to my cares let me not live Frustrate of Honest meanes O send redresse Imploy my Pen keepe me from Idlenesse From all ill Company all waies unjust Sinne Satan and the Labyrinth of lust Like Ioseph Mighty Maker make me fly The tempting Bates of Beauties bravery Suffer me Worme unworthy not in vaine To call on thee let me some solace gaine Or kneele for ever happie man were I To kneele and pray and at my Prayers die To live for ever ever more to sing Glory to thee O God Heavens glorious King O you that stand on Pinacles of state Let not the World deceive you lest too late From off your slipprie height you come in thrall To pash your selves in pecces past recall Sell not faire Lordships to keepe Ladiships Nor sucke damnation from a Strumpets lips Touch not those spells of Sparta let 'em rot When Vertue lives in man lust is forgot One onely Iemme that 's all the store I have Great of that little nothing which shall crave Of Heav'ns great Ens not for my selfe alone But for thee Reader thee and every one Rarenesse of rare example and withall An everlasting skie of Grace to fall Vpon our Warre on Earth desiring Heav'n For waies on Earth are crooked all unev'n O Heav'nly Father glorious Diety Pardon O Pardon my impiety I that have imperfections on my head Past Starres in number or those sands that spread The Vast Seas bottome shall not I confesse How oft ' gainst God I desp'rately transgresse Put off Repentance still from day to day Abuse his mighty Patience still delay His dread Command and like a sencelesse sot Vnmindfull of his mercies minde them not No sooner doe I finde a good thought take me But from that vertue flesh and bloud doe shake me Forgive me O forgive me thou that art Heav'ns universall searcher cure my heart At my dull follies I le no longer winke Sorrow shall be my Pen sad teares my Incke Misery my Paper whereon I 'le write The sorrowes of my soule my youthes delight My pathes of pleasure Prodigall expences My Scarlet Crimes and all my blacke offences This Booke I 'le dedicate unto my heart My heart chiefe Actor in sinnes Tragicke part My heart unprincely Revelling within My body that Banquetting house of sinne There Chain'd to ' th Magicke Musicke of free will Riots in poyson'd pleasure lewdly ill All that belongs to th'body ev'ry part My soule alone excepted serves my heart Best pleas'd and best at ease with pleasures bane Most glad to be most bad and in that vaine Traitor to Truth each limbe a Mortall foe To worke my universall overthrow O false false heart false to thy dearest freind Wound me no more for pittle make an end I pitty thy blacke life nor can forbeare For thee to shed many a bleeding teare Thou art my foe and yet to see thee feed Fat for Hells Shambles my poore soule dosbleed Bleeds inward indiscern'd of any eye Except my God and my owne misery What shall I doe faine would I shunne the sinne My frailty most delights to wander in And yet I cannot when I strive ' gainst vice To stand most firme I 'me tript up in a trice O What a mis'ry 't is to have a minde For to be truely honest well inclinde And not to be sufferd such is the state Of my sad bleeding soule unfortunate Field honour 's but a Vapour the sound brest Puts on Church-Armour Faith and sleights the rest In Love to Vertue and true godly feare Dwells Honour not in Dart Bowe Sling or Speare Not in vaine Beauty strength the pride of Wit Presuming Riches Learning Valour Credit High Birth Nobility nor gravitie Humanity nor yet Virginity But in the humblesoule whom holy storie Speaks to maintaine God and the Gospels glory The King and Kingdomes safety Churches peace The Virgins right Widdowes and fatherlesse These are the noble steps that ever waite On Vertues Court 't is the true Prop of state Save me O save me thou Eternall terrour To damned soules I doe confesse each errour The many thousand sinnes unseene unfelt Which long too long in my hard heart have dwelt To thee to thee thou everlasting being Of an Eternall Majestie all seeing With Penitent heart I come I call I cry Pittie me wretch helpe thou all viewing eye My armes are spread come sempeternall Essence Ravish my soule come blessed Penitence Give me thousand stabbs my soule has neede Of many thousand teares then let it bleede Pierce pierce my stubborne heart make that the Inne Of Grace which yet is but the house of sinne Looke downe soule saving sacred God of Truth Forgive th'infinite follies of my youth Shield me Divinity from Sathans ginnes Lord lay not to my charge my Parents sinnes Glory of goodnesse in thy mercy heare me Let hate Revenge nor Envie ne're come neare me Let neither Pride nor hope of gaine deceive me Nor pleasure nor the want of meanes bereave me Of sence lest sencelesse wholy I despaire And so become the wretched child of Care O sacred saviour give me grace to fly Delight in sinne I beg it earnestly In all my prayers enable me to be Blessed Lord Iesus pleasting unto thee Make me to doe thy will Lord make me grow Great in thy love thou that dost truely know Of all Earths blessings unto mortalls giv'n My sole desire on Earth is Grace from Heav'n Grace to be good grace to avoide hels ginnes And grace to grieve for nothing but my sinnes So shall thy mercy ne'r forgetfull stand While I have Tongue a Pen a head a hand The Soules Sea fight EMp'rour of Angells O thou King of Starrs Man's perfect solace ' gainst sinnes bloudy warres When I behold with contemplations Eye The silver spangles of the glorious skie Me thinks in that Blew-paper-booke of Heay a I see the waies of Mortalls all Vnev'n The wretched soule of Man in ev'ry place Lives Locally in hell Wanting thy grace Temptation on temptation past controule Alures the body to betray the soule Hells Blacke-Prince Troopes of spiries ev'ry day Invades Mans Sinne-seidg-Soule Furies display Infernall Banners while the Drum of death Beates a dead March and e're I can take breath Sounds shrill Alarums hot assaults beginne The soules fierce fight muffl'd in cloudy sinne I live beset Millions of spirits round Shoot at my soule 〈◊〉 stand on no firme ground But tread on Earth as on a Ball of ice I cannot stand nor stirre for sliprie vice My Soul 's a ship tost on the mountaine seas Of this vast world she never lives at ease Her Sailes are sighes her Anchor deepe despaire Her Compasse errour her sad Pilot care Farre off from safetyes shore floates on the waves Of fearefull billowes Soule-devouting graves Rough blustring stubborne stormes yeeld no reliefe On ev'ry shrowd each Tackling hangs a griefe Death like a darke cloud besets every place Here
requite Crowne his faire soule with comforts infinite Is it not fit then we our sinnes bewaile Thinke still on Heav'n on Heav'n that ne'r did faile The penitent soule when alas distrest Naked forlorne when most of all opprest Then sends reliefe miraculous reliefes Such is the love of Heav'n Heav'n cures all griefes As for Tymes Wolfe-turn'd ill-affected great-ones Close-fisted to the poore deafe to their groanes The Villaines of this Age that make profession Of a pure life yet live by base oppression Hell shall confound their soules that Den of Horrour Circl'd with blacke affright blew-burning terrour Shall boyle their soules and bodies to th'black-sweat Of an infernall poyson and that eate Still to renue new paines plagues that excell Such are the never-dying paines of hell There painted Pride lives crown'd in flaming fire Tymes glorious strumpet whipt with burning wiere Fed is the Lust-provoking Letcher there With scorching coales such as delight to sweare Swallow the Drunkards ever scalding oyle There Vsuters in Pooles of sulphure boyle Murther Rape Incest endlesse torments feele The Rack of vengeance and the burning wheele Whirl'd round in blew flames soule-amazing feare More thignes then tongue can tell the damned beare In burning beds of steele soules blazing fry Tortur'd with torments such as never dye Cursing the Time of their abus'd Creation Parents Fate sinne and their owne damnation Better O better never to be borne Then with such Terrour-striking torments torne Which â—o 〈◊〉 weepe wormes of Earth repent Weepe weepe for sinne soule-killing sinnes prevent Seeke heav'n shun Hell fly from the worlds intice Heav'ns the reward of Vertue Hell of Vice Perfect repentance makes men bravely die That liv'd not so fly then Hell's miserie Repent or damne for sinne weepe and weepe well Soules that doe flout at teares shall fry in hell The Devill sets his baits in ev'ry Angle No Corner's free from him soules to entangle Therefore in Vertues Path strive to excell Let firme faith still repulse the Fiend of hell Divines may preach else till their heart-strings burst The height of sinne will mount live still accurst Vbi peccatum ibi Procella Mans Miserie MAns life is like a Watch whose Time if still It Minnits right distemper'd by no ill It is a rare Peece then but oft we see It runnes too fast in Action t is too free Sometimes by wilfull providence set backe Sometimes by dull neglect it goes too slacke Beates like a dying panting pulse so slow That by and by it stands and then we know T is downe some curious wheele is much amisse Or some sprynge broke whereby the whole frame is So farre pastrectifying that it can Never goe right but like disorder'd Man Mis-spending pretious time in godlesse riot Time barrs of Heav'n Angells immortall dyet Youth is a hot unbridled willfull folly Picke me out one that 's Vertuous truly holy In this abused life and you shall finde Infinite thousands of a Vicious minde Age Palsey-strucke ready for deaths darke grave Insensible of sinne it all would have That shew of profit brings though ill got gaine And threatning heaven in thunder speake refraine Bad precepts t' will not do Truth tells us still Age proves Youth's scorne through examples ill Vice leades the silver yeares to endlesse blame Vaine unstay'd youth to beggery and shame 'T is Heav'ns just punishment an ill lewd life In Young and old meets with eternall strife Thinke then on thy Creatour wretched man Remember what thou art thy life a span A weake thinne thread spun from the downy wooll Of tender children to the Aged skull From youths rich Scarlet die Beauties full force To the silver Tinsell snow of a cold Course Man is an Actor and the world the Stage Where some doe laugh some weepe some sing some rage All in their Parts during the Stene of breath Act follies scourg'd by the Tragodian death Such is the Fate of soules ensnar'd within Satans command beware the twigg of sinne Least touch will take thee Pris'ner Hellish guiles Prove like the perilous paths of Crocodiles That with a slimie Tongue lick't o're prepares To murther Mortalls such is Satans snare O why should Mortalls wish long life to live What comfort what true joy do's this life give Ther 's nothing not one thought that do's us good But it is strangl'd straight by flesh and blood The longer life the more we sinne and fall From bad to worse from worse to worst of all Life loving fortunes how ye puffe men up To hugg their follie drinke damnations Cup O that men were farre wiser would but thinke How swell'd with pride they desperately wincke At their owne venom Vices and yet storme At others faults good heav'n this sinnereturne Or we shall perish praying for our foes Is of small use this causes all our woes Rejoyce at no mans fall with foule aspersion Although thy foe but pray for his conversion So piety wills still imitate the best Not worst of men he that lives well dies blest Observe what Holy Rritprompts thee to act Pray for thy foes 't is a most pious fact If then thine enemie persist in ire Heav'n on his head in flames heapes coales of fire The cause that on our heads just vengance drawes Springs from our selves we breake Gods sacred Lawes Yet never minde it complaints and daily cryes Are much among us still but no weteyes For crying sinnes daggers of discontent Stab home where carelesse people ne'r repent Nothing more dang'rous nor hath ever been Then to live still i' th' Lethargie of sinne The clouded fight permits us not to Eie Our owne foule faults nor the Flint heart to spie It 's rockie substance many have no sense No feeling of their sinnes large conscience Remove the cause betimes let thou and I Ev'ry one strive offend not with thine eye Fly from the tongues abuse thy hard hearts terrour Or live sinnes Slave lost in a mist of errour Sinnes Jnfirmitie THe Sinne of Mans infirmitie is knowne Best by the consequence sad sorrowes groane It leaves behind it such a sting within The Soule that miserable Man for sinne Snar'd with temptations in this worlds wide Hall Can never be at rest but grieve and fall Out to the Death with his abhord condition The guilt of Conscience and the base fruition Of his besotted sence he takes no pleasure In the worlds wealth weighing Gods deepe displeasure Still against sinne he never is at quiet At Home abroad in bed or at his diet There is no health in 's flesh no rest in 's bones Sinne stifles sence all mirth converts to moanes Each comfort proves disconsolate within That soule which really is griev'd for sinne Deepe swelling sighes like breaking Seas discover Heart breaking groanes one griefe upon another Sinne like incessant stormes beats on the breast Of Mans afflicted soule never at rest 'Till he has made his peace with Heav'n by so und And serious humble reconcilement drownd In streaming teares such teares as best expresse For
Rockes of ruine there Pyrates lie in chase In ev'ry corner mischeifes hour'ly lurke Pride fights against us like a furious Turke Lust like a Trech'rous Spaniard murd'ring French Like an infected poysons loathsome stench Gluttonie like a Germane drunkennesse Like a Dutch-dun-ker-ker whose impiousnesse Stiles him the Master Gunner to give fire To all Sinnes blacke Artillery hells Ire Infernall Chaine-short All Soule murd'ring strife To snke mans weather-beaten ship of life Which to gaine grace no sooner weighes Anchor Sets faile for safety but straight Sinnes canker The devouring Devill Pyrate for Hell Chasing flyes after and with blacke Arts spell Commands to stay sometimes with beautions formes With songs of Syrens sometimes sometimes stormes Such pitchy Tempests to benight the way As if the horrour of the Latter day Frighted the world so stops the soule from bliffe Shoots through and through her so she steares amisse Then as in bloudy Sea-fights men may see Times sacrifice to valour no man free From desperate danger every one maintaines The terrour of the fight though with their braines Dasht in each others face vitall breath Lost in a Fighting flame bloud and death Ballets and Batteries covers the ship all ore Her dismall Decks with horror purple gore And scatter'd limbes O the sad shreeke the cries Here sinckes a Ship and there another fries In fiery flames some to scape present harme Mount the Maine-Top some hang on the Yard-Arme 'Till the pitcht Mast becomes a blazing Torch Whos 's up flying flame when it beginnes to scortch Downe downe the poore Soules drop who life to save Vnwilling willingly make the Sea their Grave The deepes their Tombes so the soules Pinnace In her spirituall fight sinne dos deface Murders our best of thoughts like raging seas Windes Stormes Tempests drive us where they please The poore afflicted soule Satan so blinds It knowes not where she is by whizing winds Now-tost toth ' top of all the Azure skie Now tumbling as to Hell with frighted Bye Her Flag of sinnes desiance Tempests rent Her sayles torne all to raggs her maine mast spent All out of order tossing too and fro The soule distrest knowes not not which way to goe With gentle calme checke Sathans blacke storme Lord We shipwracke else Devills will come abord Burne with hells Wildfire flame ruine raze Blot our soules hope helpe minister of grace Safetie's in Heav'n in this uncertaine life Nothing but Hell-bred Quicksands warre and strife Soule killing vapours worldly vanites Thicke clouds of Vice perpetuall miseries There is a Voyage to the holy land In which the Truth our blessed Card must stand The Holy Ghost our Pilote to Direct The Steerage of our Course from sinnes neglect To th' Haven of Heav'n that happie Port of rest Salvation's guard true Cape of comfort blest There Heav'ns bright Majestie our Saviour sweet Sits with the hand of mercy for to greet And waft us to him O may all that stray Sayling along the Coast of sorrow pray Pray unto him he 'le guide their wand'ring Barke Tempest-tost hontely in the dreadfull darke If thou be Sea-sick call upon him and he Shall soone with healths sweet solace comfort thee Rebuke the raging winds Times blackest stormes And to a Calme skie-swelling seas reforme No Rocks Gulfes Sands nor seas-cloud-kissing waves Sinnes dreadfull Sea-fights nor the desperate braves Of Pyrates none shall hurt let then thy care See thy weake Vessell rigg'd well Mann'd with prayer And then Launch forth hoist sailes and when you spie The Cape of good hope keepe it in thine eye Let Holy thoughts deatht-breatning stormers ore'come That whatsoever chance there shall become The vessell of thy body being foule Make sure to save the Passenger thy soule He valiant onely vertuous is that can Subdue his sinnes He 's the true Noble man Ther 's perfect valour he true glory winnes Hee 's the true souldier that subdues his sinnes Breaks through the Pikes of sinne all Fiends that are In Hell or divells ruling in the ayre Forceing his way to Heav'n despight all charmes Enchantments dead sleepes all soule-slaying harmes Wrestling like Iacob constant in his sight Mindfull of his Majesticke-Makers sight To such belongs the Everlasting Crowne Of Sempeternall glory true renowne Which to prepare thee for cease to neglect Th' Almighties sacred service let respect Feare and true reverence to his pretious word Be to thy Soule Truths Helmet shield and sword Fit to subdue the Fiend all fiery Darts Furies and fiends Heav'n arme thy noble parts Soule Body Heart and all strive to fulfill The Majestie of Heav'n his divine will And like the cunning curious Architect Earnest some goodly building to erect Breaking his steepe wholy imployes his mind On the drawne modell which when he dos find Exact his eye dwells ever then upon it And his affection never driven from it So when to thought we call our Saviours bloud That sempeternall Platforme of all good Shed for our sinnes let it for ever dwell In the Idaea of our minds so Hell Sterne Death nor deadly desp'rate discontent Can barre the heav'nly heart from 's true content Gods Vengeance against sinne his true dislike Me thinkes should move us to repent and strike A terrour to our soules force us to see Man's outward danger inward miserie Which like an unresisted roaring Tide Runnes through our veines apts the base bloud to pride To all the sinnes that are or ever were O horid ill have we not cause to feare To quake and tremble when our dull dead eyes Drunke with the poyson'd dreggs of sinne ne'r spies The mischeivous perills and the blacke affright That hourely wait on the spirituall fight Fiends live at Sea and Furies on the land Gluttony for a Corporall dos stand Avarice a Pioner Sloth you 'l spie An idle Gentleman of a Companie Wraths the Serjeant Envie the Colours gaine Lust the Lievtenant is Pride the Captaine These in the hearts of ev'ry one takes place Where Cowardly Soules shuns the blest meanes of grace Let us for ever then desist from evill Wisedome commands us to desie the Devill To combate with our sinnes oppose temptation Fight against Hell the Devill and damnation This for a Caveat take strive to live well Ingratitude to God findes flames in Hell While grace is offer'd then watch fast and pray Ther 's no prevention in the latter day None lives secure that to his Vice lives friend A Vicious life oft makes a Vicious end Strengthen me my Creator make me fight Thy holy battell let not the worlds delight Disswade my soule sweet Iesus for thy merit Enable me rowze my dejected spirit Vncharme Hells charme O sacred God untie My fetter'd soule let me not ever lie Lull'd in the lazie lan of deadly sinne This Minute Sacred Saviour now beginue To give release and as thou didst provide Army of Angells for Eliahs guide Who to secure him girt with Enemies Mounted his soule from worldly vanities So Heav'nly Day-star blessed Jesus end This my designe thy
his desire free But by a narrow lane where he must see That never enough to be lamented losse Christ Iesus Tenterd on the bloudy Crosse God on the Racke for our spirituall food His limbs all o're a Charactor of blood All wounded and now bleeding crying out O thou that bearst ' the Christian stampe about Thy flesh and blood behold my bloud braine Was ever griefe like mine sicke soule refraine Reade in my wounded side thy backe returne Thy sordid sinnes repulse let thy soule mourne In showers of sorrow and to hells disgrace Reade sinnes dislike in my storme beaten fate Vnbosome Vice tast from thy soule sinnes evill And with my Scriptum est silence the divell Can carelesse Christians beare the thought of this Mercies Memento in their mindes amisse No sure no hellish heart so prone to sinne But the rich thought of such rare love must winne Mans soule to God and with right admiration Fixt sirme and often on our Saviours passion Force him to hate the sinne he lik't so well And with a loathing kick send it to hell Mercie 's rememb'rance like a Curious Lute Renders most excellent Masicke heavenly fruite Points out the weary soule the way to Grace And spurs us on to the Celestiall race Invites the penitent minde o're clogg'd with care To Heavenly extasie spirituall fare Mercifull God turne thou man's vaine desire To feare and trembling let a zealous fire Flame in the soules of men let each proud eye Humbl'd with teares admire thy Majestie Backward and forward looke calling to mind Those multitudes of Mercies mortallâ— find Day Nâ—ght Tyme Tyde miraculously given By thy All-sacred hand Great God of heav'n As the young Bird then that do's never cease Op'ning the Mouth untill the Damme release And cures the want it suffers so should wee With vnlockt lipps still pray that God would free Our soules from sinne O 't is a blessed taske God ne'r leaves giving 'till we leave to aske Dei misericordia plenitudo est virtutum FAITH Nail'd to the Crosse there Christ lost soules to winne Suffer'd the world's huge pond'rous weight of sinne Insulting Foes reproach mocks scoffings scorne His sinewes to bee Rackt his Body torne A kisse betray'd him and a perjur'd lie Was the reward for all his Puritie Heav'ns wrath Hells rage on Christ all torments fell To save our Soules from those blew flames in Hell Christ's whole life was a Martyrdome Crosse Active and Passive and his deare Blouds losse The Tragick part the bloudy Sceane which none But He himselfe must Act and act alone Christ's Patience Death And Devills force did quell He tooke the great Leviathan of hell With the Hook of his Crosse made him his slave Captiv'd the DEVILL and subdu'd the Grave FAith makes unseene things seene Faiths sacred eye Vn-visore Prides painted hypocrisie A resolute Faith forc'd Abram to consent To butcher his beloved to content His Mighty Maker Faith has ever beene The perfect Evidence of things unseene Jacob by Faith obtain'd his full desire Faith stopt the Lyons Mouthes Faith quenches fire Enoch by Faith from sence of vitall breath Translated was that he should ne'r see death Faith made Eliah to call downe from heaven Consuming flames to burne accursed men Israels great Captaine by his Faith did part Egypts Red-Sea went through with joyfull heart Iosua by Faith on Gibeon did command The golden Taper of the Sunne to stand Still while he fought the Battell of the Lord Faith comes by hearing the All-mighties word Women receiv'd their dead rais'd up to life Faith conquer'd Kingomes and subdues all strife Like a safe winde which to the Sea-man sings Comfort in midst of all sad cares Faith bringt And breathes into our soules Truths gentle gaile Salvations sweet reliefe to fill the saile Of Man's storme-beaten vessell keepes it ev'n So sends it home in peace to th' land of heav'n Faith cloathes the Soule in a divine attire To passe untoucht through Famine sword and fire His body feeles no paine by fire or sword Whose Faith is in the bosome of the Lord. Faith is Saint Peeters walking on the water Hope lent him helpe and Love was his supporter Fides Signum Christianorum HOPE Hope followes Faith when Man is most opprest Ready for hell Hope to the Soule gives rest Hope in the Lord be strong the Psalmist saith Hope strengthens comforts and confirms thy faith Hope is Faiths daughter Heav'ns holy Handmaid still To over-rule unruly desp'rate will From doing damned violence which may beget the soules Eternall cast-away In midst of hellish crosses stormes strife Hope must our Pilot be to a good life Our Anchor Cable give it then free scope The sweet's of Grace are relished by hope O my dull spirit rowze thee fit not still pond'ring on thy poore Meanes though it be ill be thankfull thanke thy God and bee not hurl'd To damn'd despaire by th' malice of the world Good luck may goe away but good hope yet Will never leave us if we leave not it ARe we so blind so sotted by the Devill To receive good at Gods hands and not evill With equall thankes have we for sinne deserv'd Least good no rather worthy to be sterv'd Want threats revenge men's states must needs decline When men against the will of heav'n repine Hope cleares Night-stormes calmes the tempestuous day ' Afflicted or not afflicted let us pray Despaire not nor repine let Vertues scope In midst of sorrowes pearch thy soule on Hope Dare Man despaire to live the life of Caine And die the death of Iudas merit paine The Damned feele in hell good heav'n defend Disquietted soules from such a dreadfull end We all are sav'd by Hope if in true sence We hope for Heav'ns Eternall Excellence Hope 's like the Fisher-man's Corke despaire the lead Whose pond'rous weight no sooner being spread But it beginnes to sinke so man in sinne Did not hope lift him up still by the Chinne Yet neither Faith nor Hope can enesubfist Wanting sweete Charity she is the list That comprehends and is the life of grace Love pittles still the poore seekes the Lords Face Spes mea Christo CHARITIE Charitie and Pride both feede the poore in the Den. Charitie to praise God Pride to get praise of men True Charitie in midst of dangers winnes Safety shee covers multitudes of sins Love is the Chaine of Grace love without spot which ties all Vertues in Loves true-love knot Three thousand Soules the heav'nly weeper gain'd constant till death by Charity obtain'd Not words but good works must man's Faith approve Charitie ever is the life of love Patience House-keeper rich bountiful No Grimfac'd grumbling giver slothfull Deale liberally thine Almes chearfull Aimes-giving increase Mens states decreases no man's living TRue Love ne'r Envies this nor that Man's good The low descent nor High-borne Noble blood Ne're makes hot boast of giving never braggs Nor seeks revenge by Hell-affected Raggs Surpassing this or that proud neighbours state Causes of
mischeife malice and much hate But is all excellent sweetnesse noble pitty Faire Honours soule cloath'd in humility What Eye on Earth sheads for his sinne a teare What Eare delights Heav'ns Holy Word to heare What Tongue triumphs to speake in Almighti's praise What Heart affected stands to holy waies Wer 't not for Charity she is the Queene In whom all Graces of the soule are seene Prophesies shall faile Tongues cease knowledge vanish But Charity never she from soules can banish Lust Averices and Pride with all the Rabble Of sinnes which make Men truely miserable O when we want the gift of Charitie We all are subject to impletie The Devill laies his stumbling blocks within Our waies of wickednesse our daies of sinne Lures us to strumpets such as Sampson tride To mighty Nabuchadnezers swolne pride Like Acban and Gâ—bezi daily He Tempes Man to covetuous Idolatrie Snares soules to Envie like accursed Caine To Herods Selfe-love Nabals churlishvaine Sinne heapt on sinne all those blacke soules to stifle That thinke Adult'rie sweet true love a trifle If rich Heav'n wills us from our plenteons store To yeeld Truths cherefull succour to the poore And that by sundry Statutes God commands Vpon the forfeiture of life and Lands Confirming still the poore man to have part In the Rich man's Estate if any heart Dares doubt this Truth the Scripture must denie None but an ATheist wrongs that pietie What a large extreâ—me folly 't is to see Man like the Wolfe for prey how earnestly He hunts for meanes as if the onely honie Of soule and body did consist in monle Meate drinke and cloathes Men sicke still pray for health Readie to be undone for paltry wealth Freedome and safety and with shamelesse faces Forget to begg of God spirituall Graces Many men pray but he the glory winnes That prayes to be disburthen'd of his sinnes And viewes the poore Mans labour with the eye Of sweetreliefe ther 's noble Chatitie The heart of such a man may sometimes shrinke Vnder temptations weight but never finke God makes man here Lord steward of that store He deales so chearefully among the poore Gives him the Grace to thinke when to his fight Apoore wretch comes to begge of him a mite He might have beene that begger his estate Transferr'd on him and begging at his gate Or in the streete in Ragges opprest with griefe Glad to beseech him for some poore reliefe Wealth 's the worlds Witch desir'd of most all know it Yet I have read wise Codrus a poore Poet And his Wife Procula they knew it was Farre greater happinesse their dayes to passo After long life unto aquiet end Then change their poorenesse proudly to ascend King Ninus Throne be wonder'd at and seene T' out shine Semyramis wealths wicked Queene Thus Heathens learne us Christians what to doe Greedy desire of wealth workes endlesse woe As wise Vlysses serv'd his Syren Witches Passe-by the worlds pelfe seeke celestiall Riches Be rich or poore unlesse a beast thou be Seeke Heav'nly wealth or ne're looke heav'n to see Man backward goes takes all the care he can Not to be godly first but a rich man Takes care for health long life Physicks the blood But last of all least care to become good Cleane opposite to the faire rule of Truth Truth instructs crooked Age and stiffe-neckt youth First to seeke Godlinesse Riches and health Will follow next godlinesse is great wealth What though the world frowne must we straight repine Has not Heav'n sent us reason to desine Twixt good and evill ought not thou and I Ev'ry one strive to live contentedly With our estates certaine it should be so Did not sinne blind us did we but truly know That which the world so scoffes at Poverty God onely sends to trie our honestie Or dishonestie poverty is sent For Vertues triall Vices punishment He that in peace enjoyes the quiet calmes Of flourishing plenty yet gives no Almes But like insatiate Hell greedy of more Belies his wealthy state to rob the poore Of their just Intrest disabling himselfe Base miser like to save his dirty pelfe Such falshood cries for flaming vengeance still To persecute a Wretch so vile so ill 'T is not the Rich not Poore can pleade excuse Where want of Charity speakes Man's abuse Dost thou want â—â—â—es to give Truth is thy friend Truth at all times instructs thee to extend ' Thy Almes in lib'rall manner not to pine In parting with thy pence for love divine Admitt thou art unable to disburse Least pecce of Coine yet let thy emptypurse Be full exprest in a Compassionate groane A sigh a prayer for him that makes his moane And in the Holy Name of the most High Beggs some reliefe to succour penurie God ever stands more on the givers mind Then the gift given if God but truely find A cup of water in his sacred name Given to the poore God gratifies the same The Widdowes Mite one Farthing pleased more The Lord of Heav'n then all the Rich Man's store There is no Vertue Constant without love Nor no love perfect but from Heav'ns above Witnesse Truths sacred Text Heav'ns love to Man Amply exprest in the poore Publican His humble Eyes sighes cries and bruised breast Forc'd ope the Gates of Mercy gave him rest With Spittle Clay least word that did proceed From Mercies never failing Master freed The Blind the Lame the Sicke the Dead from grave Heav'ns All-Commanding Maker all can save O let us then in holy love betake us To Christian Charity Now good God make us Gratiously willing for thy owne sweet sake That suffer'd on the Crosse made hell to quake Fashion our wills to thine Lord make us know It is our sinnes our sinnes makes God our Foe Vbi Charitas non est Caritas VERTVES PYRAMID Blest Blest O Blest Be that Divinity Three Sacred Persons GOD in Vnitie WHOSE glorious Ravishing Resurrection Restor'd us lost to Grace Oh PERFCTION Purifie thou my Soule my Heart my Minde Snatch me from Earth to Heav'n make me inclin'd Wholly to Thee All worldly Pompe despising Fixe my THOVGHTS ever On thy Blessed RISING Give MEE A Sempeternall Reverence To Thy All-glorious high Omnipotence I that am clog'd with sin and wretchednesse Desp'rate thoughts hunting after Worldlinesse Thy blest Protection crave cleare the great score Of all my foule misdeeds that I no more so great a sinner proove Lord let my strife Against my sinnes Raise mee from Death to life And from the Foote of uggly sinnes disgrace Mount mount my SOVLE to th'Pyramid of GRACE Chastitie and Lust LEwd speech strikes blushes in a Virgins face Chastity is ever the Zeale of grace â—taffe of Devotion Enemy to Lust In death true comfort the Marke of the Just Sister of Angells and the Virgin Tie Which cleaves to God gaines sweete Eternity When Lust with all her paint Curles purles pride Swelling in pompe is but a nastie Hide A most infectious foe foe to the Purse Foe to the Person
I am the Lord that heales I Ropeca Thou God the true Phisitian art that can Be mine Lord be so pitty me weake man God my Physitian and his Grace the Physicke I must not will not cannot be sin-sicke Nomo loeditur nisi a seipso THE DIVINE ECCHO BETWEENE THE GOOD ANGELL Man in despaire And the DEVILL Man DEath to my Soule how long must I in vaine Heav'ns comfort crave yet endlessely remaine Fetter'd in sinne breake Heart give death free scope And must I then despaire is there no hope Angell Hope Man What Soule affected spirit to mine Eare Eccho's some sweet releife can hope come neare Sinnes shackl'd Slave from whom all Verues gon What 's to be Hop'd for when all hopes are done Angell Pardon Man How Pardon can Pardon raise a wretch Times reprobate like me I that can fetch Nor sigh nor teare sinnes furie to abate Can Heav'n free such a Soule so desolate Devill Too late Man Too late indeede my Sinnes sicke stonie heart Traytor to Truth Acts the Tragedian's Part Of ill so well I know not what to doe Frights terrours broken sleepes all speake my woe Yet Holy Writ tells me 't is better ever Late to repent then to repent me never Devill Never Man O my horrour never thou deadly accent Art thou from Heav'n or Hells curs'd dungeon sent Must my despairing thoughts for ever bend To Hellish Actions shall I ne'r amend Angell Amend Man Amend I cannot guifts of Grace I lacke Like him that weares Heav'ns Livery on 's backe Hells favour in his bosom wretched I Will Fate afford no present remedie Devill Die Man My soule must then miscarrie and be damb'c Devill Be damb'd Man Is that the onely solace all the pitty Sterne Fate affords poore Man in misery Devill I. Man Was my Creation in the Wombe of woe Ordain'd for Hell no otherwise then so Devill So. Man Die then I must and will appoint me where Devill Here. Man So quicke O true Physition for to die I hold it best and to linke suddenly Here in this Desart then where no eye sees Expresse the meanes to die among these Trees Devill These Trees Man If mong these Trees appoint to me an Altar Devill An Halter Man To be hang'd is base better to drowne my selfe Devill Do drowne thy selfe Man No no I will not die so like a Rat A Cicken or a Mouse a Dog a Cat But like the desp'rate Statesman I will be Made nothing by a Dramme poyson to me Is pretious balme I will die by poyson Devill I poyson Man 'T is the true death best Cure ' gainst discontent The Noble-Mans consumption my intent Huggs the conceit And yet my soule to slay By touch or tast is no true Roman way Canst thou not change thy word Devill Thy sword Man Shall my Sword then set free from all the strife Of Worldly woes this mockery of life Can my sword soone quit me from out this straight Devill Straight Man I tifle time come forth thou maine sole good Thou cure to all my cares sweete sword in blood I 'le drowne thy friendly Blade t is the best Part Thou ere canst Act to cleave thy Masters heart Fly soule to Ayre Flame Dust I know not where Earth serve thou me for Coffin and for Beere Angell Forbeare Man Who bids forbeare what Potent power commands My soule to live my sword and trembling hand To stop their bloudy course is it in Fate To alter Mans intent before too late Turning swift mischiefe to that sudden stay Whom death but ev'n now would make her Prey Angell Pray Man Pray unto whom my soule is in a mist See see me thinkes the Everlasting Fist Of Heav'n is stretcht waving the Crowne of grace Over my Cursed head Soule sinfull Face Ayme accurst I doe deserve the Rod Of Vengeance rather then to pray to God For the least drop of Mercy No I must Not dare to pray to him for he is just Angell Just Man And by his Iustice my impietie Merits Eternall endlesse miserie Sinnes just reward O teach me yet the way Thou Divine Eccho to what place to pray From whence implored mercy may be giv'n To cleare my sinnes great score and make all ev'n Angell Heav'n Man What words will best he fit and not betray me Angell Aye-mee Man Despaire deteines me backe commands me say I have no Will no Minde no heart to pray What shall I doe my soule is in a Feaver And in that word despaire I shall end ever Angell Endeavour Man O sacred sweetnesse true Caelestiall witt Thou summe of sweetnes stampt in sacred writ Endeavour yes sinnes strife is the best play My soule can Act God give heav'n I obey Angell Obey Cum humi limus cur non humilimus Deaths Masqueing Night AS mighty Kings in glorious Masques delight Death Times Grand-Masquer had his masqueing Night In evr'y Pallace ev'ry Nooke Death ranges Death takes his root from sinne Hee 's full of changes With solemne Pace unseene Death dos advance His Sable shaft to lead the World a dance Through Courts though Armyes the worlds wide Hall Controul'd of none Death is the end of all Wher 's then the Mighty Monarch wher 's the glory Of all his Court State Masques joyes tradsitory Beauties bright Earth-Bred-Star whose sparkling eye Shoots quivers of Love-shafts at Rich Majestie Death shall deface and in the bed of night Yeild farre more cause of terrour then delight Wher 's then the wanton glance that seem'd to skip From this Great Lord to that Great Ladyes Lap The nymble Sprightly Cap'ring Courtier then Forgotten lies there is no dancing when Devouring Death stabs with his sable shaft Vaine is the power of Art all mundane craft The deepe Physitians skill flatt'ring discourse Of health Death soone turnes to a dismall course Wher 's then the mighty Madams flâ—reing Pride Oyles Powders Paintings all are laid aside Gold glittring Glory Cloath of Silver silke Forgetfull Feasts their sinfull Baths of Milke When many a poore soule sterves wanting the food Of their supurfluous out-side pamper'd blood Gurles Purles Purfumes Court complements visites Hot-stirring Dishes soule bewitching Minuts All Pompe on Earth ambitious mad desires Revells and Lust-burnt Midnights unchast fires All are husht then Beggers and Kings all must Take a poore lodging in a bed of dust Death is a dreadfull Antimasque 't will fright The worlds Grand Masquer in his full delight Figures and Footings practiz'd to intrance Spectators Eyes Deaths interposing Dance Dissolves to darkenesse in a moments space Ruines proud Pompe makes pale th'aluing Face Sparkling in Beanty deads the hot desire Of Naked Brests Death tames Lusts raging fire Wounds without dread or dalliance Death will strike Sou'raignes and subjects all are to him alike To Rich and Poore those that doe ill or well Death is the Path either to Heav'n or Hell Deaths dread appearance evermore makes glad The good but proves a terrour to the bad Disjoynts the ablest limbs Death trembles Pride Extincts State-Glories will not be denide Death is an Archer Man the Marke to shoot at Fly where thou wilt East West this way or that Death followes like a shaddow shoot he will Drawes sure and home Death never failes to kill And yet none truely mindes it though we know Time shall decay we cannot feede nor goe Nor promise life a Minute men passe to bed But ignorant are to rise alive or dead Death by a thousand accidents do's meet Health Wealth and Beauty stabs 'em in the street He that least dreames of death some falling Tyle Timber or Stone doth suddenly beguile Him of his life yea oft when Man refraines And seekes to shunne it dashes out his braines This learnes us Mortalls during vitall breath With humble soule to meditate on Death The thought of Death aright prevents the evill Of Hells Night Theife the worlds Noone-day Devill Death's deepe remembr'ance rightly understood Strikes dead delights lures the lewd mind to good Wafts the sinne weary soule to thinke upon Her ill past life present affliction O sinne-sicke-sinfull Man feare to doe ill Tremble proud Heart crosse not thy Makers will Thinke on thy end thinke on the Day of Doome The paines of Hell Deaths-Masqueing Night wil come Not in the Pompe of Princely merriment But the dread fall of soules impenitent Ingratefull Soules to God soules that dare sit I' th scorners seate trusting to wicked wit More then their Makers wisedome their conceit Aimes not at Heav'n but to be worldly great Pride is their zeale theie Prayers forgetfulnesse Charity Contempt their Vivtue wantonnesse Plump high fed Pamper'd Flesh on whom must waite Page Pander Parasite preparation state Gold glitt'ring glory cost curious diet Insatiate pleasure and vaineglorious Riot These are the sinnes that merit endlesse shame Hells ever burning never dying flame Which to prevent Great God let hate to vice Dissolve sinnes Cloud Becho to Paradice Our Saviours sweetnesse let us never more Lie downe to our dishonour like a whore Dead to good Counsell never let darke deedes Defile the soule let 's roote up all the seeds Of Pride Lust Envie Hatred and in place Plant Wisedome meeke Humility and Grace Abhorre to study State with greater zeale Then zeale to Heav'n or the soules-common-weale True Penitence gaines Heav'n throwes sinners downe To raise them up to an Immortall Crowne Cogita de fine infinito ut vives in infinitum FINIS