little sweete hath many fowres Short hap immortall harmes Her louing lookes are murdring dartes Her songs bewitching charmes Like winter rose and sommer I se Her ioyes are still vntimely Before her hope behind remorse Faire first in fine vnseemely Moodes passions fancies iealous fits Attend vpon her traine She yeeldeth rest without repose A heau'n in hellish paine Her house is slouth her doore deceite And slipperie hope her staires Vnbashfull boldnesse bids her guests And euery vice repaires Her diet is of such delight As please till they be past But then the poyson kils the hart That did entise the tast Her sleepe in sinne doth end in wrath Remorse rings her awake Death cals her vp shame driues her out Dispaires her vp-shot make Plowe not the Seas sowe not the sands Leaue off your idle paine Seeke other mistres for your minds Loues seruice is in vaine Life is but losse BY force I liue in will I wish to dye In plaint I passe the length of lingring dayes Free would my soule from mortall body flye And tread the tracke of deaths desired wayes Life is but losse where death is deemed gaine And loathed pleasures breede displeasing paine VVho would not dye to kill all murdering greeues Or who would liue in neuer dying feares VVho would not wish his treasure safe from theeues And quit his hart from pangues his eyes from teares Death parteth but two euer fighting foes VVhose ciuill strife doth worke our endlesse woes Life is a wandring course to doubtfull rest As oft a cursed ryse to damning leape As happie race to winne a heauenly crest None being sure what finall fruites to reape And who can like in such a life to dwell VVhose wayes are straite to heau'n but wyde to hell Come cruell death why lingrest thou so long VVhat doth withhold thy dint from fatall stroke Now prest I am alas thou doest me wrong To let me liue more anger to prouoke Thy right is had when thou hast stopt my breath VVhy should'st thou stay to worke my double death If Saules attempt in falling on his blade As lawfull were as ethe to put in vre If Sampsons leaue a common law were made Of Abels lot if all that would were sure Then cruell death thou should'st the tyrant play VVith none but such as wished for delay VVhere life is lou'd thou ready art to kill And to abridge with sodaine pangues their ioy VVhere life is loath'd thou wilt not worke their will But dost adiourne their death to their annoy To some thou art a fierce vnbidden guest But those that craue thy helpe thou helpest least Auant ô viper I thy spight defie There is a God that ouer-rules thy force VVho can thy weapons to his will apply And shorten or prolong our brittle course I on his mercie not thy might relye To him I liue for him I hope to dye I dye aliue O Life what lets thee from a quicke decease O death what drawes thee from a present pray My feast is done my soule would beat ease My grace is said ô death come take away I liue but such a life as euer dies I die but such a death as neuer ends My death to end my dying life denies And life my liuing death no whit amends Thus still I dye yet still I do reuiue My liuing death by dying life is fed Grace more then nature keepes my hart aliue VVhose idle hopes and vaine desires are dead Not where I breath but where I loue I liue Not where I loue but where I am I dye The life I wish must future glory giue The deathes I feele in present dangers lye What ioy to line I wage no warre yet peace I none enioy I hope I feare I fry in freezing cold I mount in mirth still prostrate in annoy I all the world embrace yet nothing hold All wealth is want where chiefest wishes faile Yea life is loath'd where loue may not preuaile For that I loue I long but that I lack That others loue I loath and that I haue All worldly fraights to me are deadly wrack Men present hap I future hopes doe craue They louing where they liue long life require To liue where best I loue death I desire Heere loue is lent for loane of filthy gaine Most friends befriend thēselues with friendships shew Heere plentie perril want doth breed disdaine Cares common are ioyes faulty short few Here honour enuide meanenes is dispis'd Sinne deemed solace vertue little pris'd Heere beauty is a baite that swallowed choakes A treasure sought still to the owners harmes A light that eyes to murdring sighs prouokes A grace that soules enchant with mortall charmes A luring ayme to Cupids fiery flights A balefull blisse that damnes where it delights O who would liue so many deaths to try VVhere will doth wish that wisedome doth reproue VVhere nature craues that grace must needs denie VVhere sence doth like that reason cannot loue VVhere best in shew in finall proofe is worst VVhere pleasures vpshot is to die accurst Lifes death loues life WHo liues in loue loues least to liue And long delayes doth rue If him he loue by whom he liues To whom all loue is due VVho for our loue did choose to liue And was content to die VVho lou'd our loue more then his life And loue with life did buy Let vs in life yea with our life Requite his liuing loue For best we liue when least we liue If loue our life remoue VVhere loue is hote life hatefull is Their grounds doe not agree Loue where it loues life where it liues Desireth most to be And sith loue is not where it liues Nor liueth where it loues Loue hateth life that holdes it backe And death it best approues For seldome is he wonne in life VVhom loue doth most desire If wonne by loue yet not inioyde Till mortall life expire Life out of earth hath not aboad In earth loue hath no place Loue setled hath her ioyes in heau'n In earth life all her grace Mourne therefore no true louers death Life onely him annoyes And when he taketh leaue of life Then loue beginnes his ioyes At home in Heauen FAire soule how long shall veyles thy graces shroud How long shall this exile with-hold thy right VVhen will thy sunne disperse this mortall cloud And giue thy glories scope to blaze their light O that a Starre more fit for Angels eyes Should pyne in earth not shyne aboue the skyes Thy ghostly beautie offred force to God It cheyn'd him in the linkes of tender loue It woon his will with man to make abode It stai'd his Sword and did his wrath remoue It made the rigor of his iustice yeeld And Crowned mercie Empresse of the feeld This lull'd our heauenly Sampson fast a sleepe And laid him in our feeble natures lap This made him vnder mortall load to creep And in our flesh his god-head to enwrap This made him soiourne with vs in exile And not disdayne our tytles in his
shop of shame trade sorrowes ware Pleasd with displeasing lot I seeke no change I wealthiest am when richest in remorce To fetch my ware no seas nor lands I range For customers to buy I nothing force My home-bred goods at home are bought and sold And still in me the interest I hold My comfort now is comfortlesse to liue In Orphan state deuoted to mishap Rent from the roote that sweetest fruit did giue I scorn'd to graffe in stocke of meaner sap No iuice can ioy me but of Iesse flower VVhose heauenly roote hath true reuiuing power At sorrowes dore I knockt they crau'd my name I aunswered one vnworthy to be knowne VVhat one say they one worthiest of blame But who a wretch not Gods nor yet his owne A man O no a beast much worse what creature A rocke how cald the rocke of scandale Peter From whence from Caiphas house ah dwell you there Sinnes farme I rented there but now would leaue it VVhat rent my soule what gaine vnrest and feare Deere purchase Ah too deere will you receiue it VVhat shall we giue fit teares and times to plaine me Come in say they thus griefes did entertaine me VVith them I rest true prisoner to theyr Iayle Chain'd in the yron linkes of basest thrall Tyll grace vouchsafing captiue soule to bayle In wonted See degraded loues enstall Dayes passe in plaints the nights without repose I wake to weepe I sleepe in waking woes Sleepe deaths allye obliuion of teares Silence of passions balme of angry sore Suspence of loues securitie of feares VVrathes lenitiue harts ease stormes calmest shore Sences and soules repriuall from all cumbers Benumming sence of ill with quiet slumbers Not such my sleepe but whisperer of dreames Creating strange chymeraes fayning frights Of day discourses giuing fansie theames To make dumme shewes with worlds of antick sights Casting true griefes in fansies forging mold Brokenly telling tales rightly fore-told This sleepe most fitly suteth sorrowes bed Sorrow the smart of euill Sinnes eldest child Best when vnkind in killing who it bred A racke for guiltie thoughts a bit for wild The scourge that whips the salue that cures offence Sorrow my bed and home while life hath sence Heere solitary Muses nurse my griefes In silent lonenesse burying worldly noyse Attentiue to rebukes deafe to reliefes Pensiue to foster cares carelesse of ioyes Ruing lifes losse vnder deathes dreary roofes Solemnizing my funerall behoofes A selfe contempt the shroud my soule the corse The beere an humble hope the herse cloth feare The mourners thoughts in blacks of deepe remorse The herse grace pittie loue and mercy beare My teares my dole the priest a zealous will Pennance the tombe and dolefull sighes the knill Christ health of feuer'd soule heauen of the mind Force of the feeble nurse of Infant loues Guide to the wandring foote light of the blind VVhom weeping winnes repentant sorrow moues Father in care mother in tender hart Reuiue and saue me slaine with finnefull dart If king Manasses sunke in depth of sinne VVith plaints and teares recouered grace and crowne A worthlesse worme some milde regard may winne And lowly creepe where flying threw it downe A poore desire I haue to mend my ill I should I would I dare not say I will I dare not say I will but wish I may My pride is checkt high wordes the speaker spilt My good ô Lord thy gift thy strength my stay Giue what thou bidst and then bid what thou wilt VVorke with me what thou of me do'st request Then will I dare the most and vow the best Prone looke crost armes bent knee and contrite hart Deepe sighes thicke sobs dew'd eyes prostrate praiers Most humbly beg release of earned smart And sauing shroud in mercies sweete repaires If iustice should my wrongs with rigor wage Feares would dispaires ruth breed a hopelesse rage Lazar at pitties gate I vlcered lye Crauing the reffues crummes of childrens plate My sores I lay in view to mercies eye My rags beare witnesse of my poore estate The wormes of conscience that within me swarme Proue that my plaints are lesse then is my harme VVith mildnesse Iesu measure my offence Let true remorse thy due reuenge abate Let teares appease when trespasse doth incense Let pittie temper thy deserued hate Let grace forgiue let loue forget my fall VVith feare I craue with hope I humbly call Redeeme my lapse with raunsome of thy loue Trauerse th'inditement rigors doome suspend Let frailtie fauour sorrowes succour moue Be thou thy selfe though changling I offend Tender my sute clense this defiled denne Cancell my debts sweet Iesu say Amen The end of Saint Peters complaint MARY MAGDALENS BLVSH THE signes of shame that staine my blushing face Rise from the feeling of my rauing fits VVhose ioy annoy whose guerdon is disgrace VVhose solace flyes whose sorrow neuer flits Bad seede I sow'd worse fruite is now my gaine Soone dying mirth begat long liuing paine Now pleasure ebbes reuenge beginnes to flow One day doth wreake the wrath that many wrought Remorse doth tcach my guiltie thoughts to know How cheape I sould that Christ so deerely bought Faults long vnfelt doth conscience now bewray VVhich cares must cure and teares must wash away All ghostly dynts that grace at me did dart Like stubborne rocke I forced to recoyle To other flights an ayme I made my hart whose wounds then wel-come now haue wrought my foyle VVoe worth the bow woe worth the archers might That draue such arrowes to the marke so right To pull them out to leaue them in is death One to this world one to the world to come VVounds may I weare and draw a doubtfull breath But then my wounds will worke a dreadfull dome And for a world whose pleasures passe away I lose a world whose ioyes are past decay O sence ô soule ô had ô hoped blisse You wooe you weane you draw you driue me back Your crosse encountring like their combate is That neuer end but with some deadly wrack VVhen sence doth winne the soule doth loose the field And present haps make future hopes to yeeld O heauen lament sence robbeth thee of Saints Lament ô soules sence spoyleth you of grace Yet sence doth scarse deserue these hard complaints Loue is the thiefe sence but the entring place Yet graunt I must sence is not free from sinne For theefe he is that theefe admitteth in ¶ Marie Magdalens complaynt at Christes death SIth my life from life is parted Death come take thy portion VVho suruiues when life is murdred Liues by meere extortion All that liue and not in God Couch their life in deaths abod Seely starres must needes leaue shining VVhen the sunne is shaddowed Borrowed streames refraine their running VVhen head springs are hindered One that liues by others breath Dieth also by his death O true life since thou hast left me Mortall life is tedious Death it is to liue without thee Death of all most odious Turne againe or take me to
blasphemies did swell VVith taynted breath infecting all resort VVhy didst thou lead me to this hell of euills To shew my selfe a fiend among the diuels Euill president the tyde that wafts to vice Dumme Orator that woes with silent deedes VVriting in workes lessons of ill aduise The doing tale that eye in practise reedes Taster of ioyes to vnacquainted hunger VVith leauen of the olde seasoning the yonger It seemes no fault to doe that all haue done The number of offenders hides the sinne Coatch drawne with many horse doth easely runne Soone followeth one where multitudes begin O had I in that court much stronger bin Or not so strong as first to enter in Sharpe was the weather in that stormie place Best suting hearts benum'd with hellish frost VVhose crusted malice could admit no grace VVhere coales were kindled to the warmers cost VVhere feare my thoughts canded with ysie colde Heate did my tongue to periuries vnfolde O hatefull fire ah that I euer saw it Too hard my hart was frozen for thy force Farre hotter flames it did require to thawe it Thy hell resembling heate did freeze it worse O that I rather had congeal'd to yse Then bought thy warm'th at such a damning price O wakefull bird proclaimer of the day VVhose piercing note doth daunt the Lions rage Thy crowing did my selfe to me bewray My frights and brutish heates it did aswage But ô in this alone vnhappie cocke That thou to count my foyles wert made the clocke O bird the iust rebuker of my crime The faithfull waker of my sleeping feares Be now the daylie clocke to strike the time VVhen stinted eyes shall pay their taske of teares Vpbraide mine eares with thine accusing crow To make me rew that first it made me know O milde reuenger of aspiring pride Thou canst dismount high thoughts to low effects Thou mad'st a cocke me for my fault to chide My lofty boastes this lowlie bird corrects VVell might a cocke correct me with a crow VVhom hennish cackling first did ouer-throw VVeake weapons did Golias fumes abate VVhose storming rage did thunder threates in vaine His bodie huge harnest with massie plate Yet Dauids stone brought death into his braine VVith staffe and sling as to a dog he came And with contempt did boasting fury tame Yet Dauid had with Beare and Lyon fought His skilfull might excusd Golias foyle The death is easd that worthy hand hath wrought Some honour liues in honorable spoile But I on whom all infamies must light VVas hisd to death with wordes of womens spight Small gnats enforst th' Egiptian king to stoupe Yet they in swarmes and arm'd with piercing stings Smart noyse annoyance made his courage droupe No small incombrance such small vermine brings I quaild at words that neither bit nor stoung And those deliuered from a womans toung Ah feare abortiue impe of drouping mind Selfe ouer-throw false friend root of remorce Sighted in seeing euils in shunning blind Foyld without field by fancie not by force Ague of valour phrensie of the wise True honours staine loues frost the mint of lies Can vertue wisedome strength by women spild In Dauids Salomons and Sampsons falls VVith semblance of excuse my errour guild Or lend a marble glose to muddy walles O no their fault had show of some pretence No veyle can hide the shame of my offence The blaze of beauties beames allur'd their lookes Their lookes by seeing oft conceiued loue Loue by affecting swallowed pleasures hookes Thus beautie loue and pleasure them did mooue These Syrens sugred tunes rockt them a sleepe Enough to damne yet not to damne so deepe But gratious features dazeled not mine eies Two homely droyles were authors of my death Not loue but feare my sences did surprize Not feare of force but feare of womans breath And those vnarm'd ill grac'd despisd vnknowne So base a blast my truth hath ouer-throwne O women woe to men traps for their fals Still actors in all tragicall mischances Earthes necessarie euils captiuing thralls Now murdring with your tongs now with your glances Parents of life and loue spoylers of both The theeues of harts false do you loue or loth In time ô Lord thine eyes with mine did meete In them I reade the ruines of my fall Their chearing raies that made misfortune sweete Into my guiltie thoughts pourd floods of gall Their heauenly lookes that blest where they beheld Darts of disdaine and angrie checks did yeeld O sacred eyes the springs of liuing light The earthly heauens where Angels ioy to dwell How could you deigne to view my deathfull plight Or let your heauenly beames looke on my hell But those vnspotted eyes encountred mine As spotlesse Sunne doth on the dounghill shine Sweet volumes stoard with learning fit for Saints VVhere blisfull quires imparadize their minds VVherein eternall studie neuer faints Still finding all yet seeking all it finds How endlesse is your laborinth of blisse VVhere to be lost the sweetest finding is Ah wretch how oft haue I sweet lessons read In those deare eyes the registers of truth How oft haue I my hungrie wishes fed And in their happie ioyes redress'd my ruth Ah that they now are Heralds of disdaine That erst were euer pittiers of my paine You flames diuine that sparkle out your heats And kindle pleasing fires in mortall hearts You nectar'd Aumbryes of soule feeding meates You gracefull quiuers of loues deerest darts You did vouchsafe to warme to wound to feast My cold my stony my now famishd brest The matchles eyes match'd onely each by other VVere pleasd on my ill matched eyes to glaunce The eye of liquid pearle the purest mother Broch'd teares in mine to weepe for my mischance The cabinets of grace vnlockt their treasure And did to my misdeed their mercies measure These blazing Comets lightning flames of loue Made me their warming influence to know My frozen hart theyr sacred force did proue VVhich at their lookes did yeeld like melting snow They did not ioyes in former plentie carue Yet sweet are crums where pined thoughts do starue O liuing mirrours seeing whom you shew which equall shadows worths with shadowed things Yea make things nobler then in natiue hew By being shap'd in those life-gyuing springs Much more my image in those eyes was grac'd Then in my selfe whom sinne and shame defac'd All-seeing eyes more worth then all you see Of which one is the others onely price I worthlesse am direct your beames on mee VVith quickning vertue cure my killing vice By seeing things you make things worth the sight You seeing salue and beeing seene delight O Pooles of Hesebon the bathes of grace VVhere happy spirits diue in sweet desires VVhere Saints reioyce to glasse theyr glorious face VVhose banks make Eccho to the Angels quires An Eccho sweeter in the sole rebound Then Angels musick in the fullest sound O eyes whose glaunces are a silent speech In ciphred words high misteries disclosing VVhich with a looke all Sciences can
stile This brought him from the rankes of heau'nly quires Into this vale of teares and cursed soyle From flowers of grace into a world of bryers From life to death from blisse to balefull toyle This made him wander in our Pilgrim weede And tast our torments to relieue our neede O soule do not thy noble thoughtes abase To lose thy loues in any mortall wight Content thine eye at home with natiue grace Sith God him selfe is rauisht with thy sight If on thy beautie God enamored bee Base is thy loue of any lesse then hee Giue not assent to muddy minded skill That deemes the feature of a pleasing face To be the sweetest baite to lure the will Not valewing right the worth of ghostly grace Let Gods and Angels censure winne beliefe That of all beauties iudge our soules the chiefe Queene Hester was of rare and pearlesse hew And Iudeth once for beautie bare the vaunt But he that could our soules endowments vew Would soone to soules the Crowne of beauty graunt O soule out of thy selfe seeke God alone Grace more then thine but Gods the world hath none Lewd Loue is Losse MIsdeeming eye that stoupest to the lure Of mortall worthes not worth so worthy loue All beauties base all graces are impure That do thy erring thoughts from God remoue Sparkes to the fire the beames yeelde to the sunne All grace to God from whom all graces runne If picture moue more should the patterne please No shaddow can with shaddowed things compare And fayrest shapes whereon our loues do seaze But seely signes of Gods high beauties are Goe steruing sence feede thou on earthly mast True loue in Heau'n seeke thou thy sweet repast Gleane not in barren soyle these offall eares Sith reap thou maiest whole haruests of delight Base ioyes with griefes bad hopes do end in feares Lewd loue with losse euill peace with deadly fight Gods loue alone doth end with endlesse ease VVhose ioyes in hope whose hope concludes in peace Let not the luring traine of fansies trap Or gracious features proofes of natures skill Lull reasons force a sleepe in errors lap Or draw thy wit to bent of wanton will The fayrest flowers haue not the sweetest smell A seeming heauen proues oft a damning hell Selfe-pleasing soules that play with beauties bayte In shyning shroud may swallow fatall hooke VVhere eager sight or semblant faire doth waite A locke it proues that first was but a looke The fish with ease into the Net doth glide But to get out the way is not so wide So long the flie doth dallie with the flame Vntill his singed wings doe force his fall So long the eye doth follow fancies game Till loue hath left the hart in heauie thrall Soone may the minde be cast in Cupids Iayle But hard it is imprisoned thoughts to bayle O loath that loue whose finall ayme is lust Moth of the mind eclypse of reasons light The graue of grace the mole of natures rust The wrack of wit the wrong of euery right In summe an euill whose harmes no tongue can tell In which to liue is death to dye is hell Loues Garden griefe VAine loues auaunt infamous is your pleasure Your ioy deceit Your iewels iests worthlesse trash your treasure Fooles common bait Your pallace is a prison that allureth To sweet mishap and rest that paine procureth Your garden griefe hedg'd in with thornes of enuie And stakes of strife Your Allyes errour graueled with iealousie And cares of life Your bankes are seates enwrapt with shades of sadnes Your Arbours breed rough fittes of raging madnes Your beds are sowne with seedes of all iniquitie And poys'ning weedes VVhose stalks euill thoughts whose leaues words full of vanitie VVhose fruite misdeedes VVhose sap is sinne whose force and operation To banish grace and worke the soules damnation Your trees are dismall plants of pyning corrosiues VVhose roote is ruth VVhose barke is bale whose timber stubborne fantasies VVhose pyth vntruth On which in liew of birdes whose voyce delighteth Of guiltie conscience screching note affrighteth Your coolest summer gales are scalding sighings Your showers are teares Your sweetest smell the stench of sinfull liuing Your fauoures feares Your gardener sathan all you reape is miserie Your gaine remorse and losse of all felicitie From Fortunes reach LEt fickle fortune runne her blindest rase I setled haue an vnremoued mind I scorne to be the game of fansies chase Or vane to shew the chaunge of euery wind Light giddy humors stinted to no rest Still chaunge their choyce yet neuer chose the best My choyse was guided by fore-sightfull heede It was auerred with approuing will It shal be followed with performing deede And seal'd with vow till death the chooser kill Yea death though finall date of vaine desires Endes not my choyse which with no time expires To beauties fading blisse I am no thrall I bury not my thoughts in mettall Mynes I aime not at such fame as feareth fall I seeke and find a light that euer shynes VVhose glorious beames display such heauenly sights As yeeld my soule a summe of all delights My light to loue my loue to lyfe doth guyde To life that liues by loue and loueth light By loue to one to whom all loues are tyde By dewest debt and neuer equall right Eyes light harts loue soules truest life he is Consorting in three ioyes one perfect blisse FINIS Ma Mat Ioh. Ma◠Lu◠16 Ioh 6. 4. 17. Exod◠2. R◠3. R◠Iud◠Ca 〈…〉 2. Reg. Can. 5. 12. Exod. 1 verse 6 Psal. 6 Tob 〈…〉 3 7 Gene 〈…〉 Gene 〈…〉 2 Re 〈…〉 〈…〉 2. 11. 17. 〈…〉 8.