have bin lengthen'd had th'untrodden way To life beene found He might have â—ose agin If something had or something had not bin What mine sees past Heav'ns eie foresaw to come He saw how that contingent Act should summe The toâ—all of his Dayes His knowing Eye As mine doth see him dead saw he should die That very fatall howre yet saw his death Not so so necessary but his Breath Might beene enlarg'd unto a longer date Had he neglected This or taken That All times to Heav'n are now both first and last He seeâ— things present as we see them past 3. On the Sacraments THe Loâ—ves of Bread were five the Fishes two Whereof the Multitude was made partaker Who made the Fishes God But tell me who Gave being to the Loaves of Bread the Baker Ev'n so thâ—se Sacraments which some call seaven Five were ordain'd by Man and two by Heaven 4. On the Infancie of our Saviour HAyle blessed Virgin full of heavenly Grace Blest above all that sprang from humane race Whose Heav'n-saluted Womb brought forth in One A blessed Saviour and a blessed Son O! what a ravishment ' thad beene to see Thy little Saviour perking on thy Knee To see him nuzzle in thy Virgin Brest His milke white body all unclad undrest To see thy busie Fingers cloathe and wrappe His spradling Limbs in thy indulgent Lappe To see his desprate Eyes with Childish grace Smiling upon his smiling Mothers face And when his forward strength began to bloome To see him diddle up and downe the Roome O who would thinke so sweet a Babe as this Should ere be slaine by a false-hearted kisse Had I a Ragge if sure thy Body wore it Pardon sweet Babe I thinke I should adore it Till then O grant this Boone a boone far dearer The Weed not being I may adore the Wearer 5. On Iudas Iscariot VVE raile at Iudas him that did betray The Lord of life yet doe it day by day 6. On the life and death of Man THe World 's a Theater The Earth a Stage Plac'd in the midst wheron both Prince Page Both rich and poore foole wiseman base and high All act their Parts in Lifes short Tragedy Our Life 's a Tragedy Those secret Roomes Wherein we tyre us are our Mothers Wombes The Musicke ush'ring in the Play is Mirth To see a Manchild brought upon the Earth That fainting gaspe of Breath which first we vent Is a Dumb-Shew presents the Argumâ—nt Our new-born Cries that new-born Griefes bewray Is the sad Prologue of th' ensuing Play False hopes true feares vaine ioyes and fierce distracts Are like the Musicke that divides the Acts Time holds the Glasse and when the hower's run Death strikes the Epilogue and the Play is done 7 On the seven liberall Sciences of a Christian. Grammar IT is an Art that teaches not t' excell In Writing Speaking as in Doing well Logicke IT is an Art sometimes of Plotting treason Against the Crowne and Dignity of Reason Rhetoricke IT is an Art whereby he learnes t' encrease His knowledge of the time to Hold his Peace Arythmeticke IT is an Art that makes him apt to raise And number out Gods Blessings and his Dayes Musicke IT is a potent Science that infringes Strong Prison dores and heaves them from their hinges Astronomie IT is an Art of taking out the Lead From hiâ— dull Browes and lifting â—p the Head Geometrie IT is an Art insâ—ructs him how to have The World in scorne and measure out his Grave 8. Christs foure houses HIs first house was the blessed Virgins Wombe The next a Cratch the third a Crosse the fourth a Tombe 9. Of Light and Heate MArk but the Sun-beames when they shine most bright They lâ—â—d this lower world both heat light They both are Children of the selfe-same Mother Twinnes not subsisâ—iâ—g one without the other They both conspire unto the Common good When in their proper places understood Is 't not rebellion against Sense to say Light helps to quicken Or the Beames of day May lend a Heat and yeâ— no Light at all 'T is true some obvious Shade may chance to fall Vpon the quickned Plâ—nt yet not so great To quench the 〈◊〉 of the Heate The Heate cannot be parted from the Light Nor yet the Light from Heate They neither might Be mingled in the Act nor found asunder Distinguish now fond man or stay and wonder Know then Their vertues differ though themselves agree Heat vivifies Light gives man power to see The thing so vivifyed no Light no Heate And where the heat 's but small the light 's not great They are inseparable and sworne Lovers Yet differing thus That quickens This discovers Within these lines a sacred Myst'ry lurkes The Heat resembles Faith the Light Good workes 10. On Judas Iscariot SOme curse that traytour Iudas life and lim God knows some curse theÌ„selves in cursing him 11. On the possession of the Swine WHen as our blessed Saviour did un-devill The Man possest the Spirits in conclusion Entred the Swine being active still in evill And drove them headlong to their owne confusion Druâ—kards beware and be advised then They 'l find you as y' are Swine if not as Men 12. On a Sunâ—Dyall THis Horizontall Dyall can bewray To the sad Pilgrim the houre of the Day But if the Sun appeare not his Adviser His eye may looke yet he prove nâ—'er the wiser Alas alas there 's nothing can appeare But onely Types and shadow'd Figures there This Dyall is the Scripture and the Sun Gods holy Spirit Wee the â—ookers on Alas that saceed Letter which we read VVithout the Quickning of the Spirit 's dead The knowledge of our Peace improves no better Then if our Eye had not beheld a Letter I but this glorious Sun shines alwayes bright I but we often stand in our owne light Vse then the day for when the day is gon There willl be darknes there will be no Sun 13. On the three Christian Graces Faith IT is a Grace that teaches to deprave not The Goods we have To have the goods we have not Hope IT is a Grace that keeps th' Almighty blamelesse In long delay And men in begging shamelesse Charitie IT is a Grace or Art to get a Living By selling Land and to grow rich by giving 14. On a Feast THe Lord of Heav'n and Earth ha's made a Feast And ev'ry Soule is an invited Guest The Word 's the Food the Levits are the Cookes The Fathers Writings are their Dyet-bookes But seldome us'd for 't is a fashion growne To recommend made Dishes of their owne What they should boyle they bake what râ—st they broyle Their lushious Sallats are too sweet with Oyle In briefe 't is now a dayes too great a fault T' have too much Pepper and too little Salt 15. On Dives THat drop-requesting Dives did desire His Brothers might have warning of that Fire Whose flames he felt Could he a Fiend wish well To Man What is there Charity in Hell
strength and double power To draw those sinfull Shafts that shoot at heaven Thou knewst our easie Nature would be driven By ev'ry Breath and that our thoughts would fall From bad to worse from worse to worst of all Thou knowst that growing Time wold more unlevell Our rugged Wills and tookst the best of evill Lord take it and betimes that being possest Of that thou mayst prescribe for all the rest 81. On PARTIO THou sayst thy will is good and glory'st in it And yet forgetst thy Maker ev'ry minit Say Partio was there ever Will allow'd When the Testators mem'ry was not good 82. On an evill Conscience WHat hells of Horror an evill Conscience brings What strange Chimera's what prodigious things A pregnant womb of wonders Ev'ry minit We Sin but least when most we sin agin it 83. To MVNDANO NEre thinke Mundaeno that one Roome will hold Thy God and all thy gold If ere they chance to meete within a heart They 'l either fight or part So long as Earth seemes glorious in thine eyes Thy thoughts can never rise Beleeve 't Mundano by how much more neare Thou getst to Heav'n the lesse will earth appeare 84. To my Friend VVOuld'st thou be prosp'rous tho the beÌ„ded brow Of Fortune threaten thee He teach thee how Call home thy dearest wishes and recall Thy hopes Expect the worst that can befall If come thy heart will be the more secure The lesse amaz'd and abler to endure If it come not Expectance is no losse Perchance it armes thee for another Crosse Thus wisely sheltred under this reliefe Thy Ioy shall be the lesse and lesse thy Griefe 85. To Malfido CHeare up Malfido Lay thy thoughts more level Make sure of Grace and ne'r suspect thy Food He that is Good can give a thing that 's evill No more then thou being evill canst wish a good He better knowes to give then thou to begge Thou whin'st for Stones and grumblest at an Egge O let his better will suspend thy wish And thou shalt find no Scorpion if no Fish 86. On CRVCIO THou stil complainst that sorrowes do attend thee And that their savours do so much annoy thee Mistake not they are weapons to defend thee They be not Engins Crucio to destroy thee Wilt thou mislike thy Cropps of swelling Corne Because th' are trencht fenc'd about with thorn 87. To RHEMVS T Is true we are but dust but wormes nay men That are more base then either And what then Shall wormes or dust or men be well advis'd To goe in person where we have despis'd Before a God a glorious God I doe Who bids thee Come will bid thee Welcome too Rhemus when call'd in person you appeare By Proxy tell me where 's your manners there 'T is better to be wisely bold then make Thy selfe unmannerly for manners sake Some ill-bred Clownes there be that being loath To foule a Napkin draw a filthy Cloath 88. To MACIO DRoope not beneath thy wants as if forlorne Thou must be made a Iewell to be worne In Abrams bosome Macio he that comes To Abrams bosome finds his way by Crumms 89. On Reproofe T Is not enough to strive agin the Act Or not to doe 't we must reprove the Fact In others too The Sin being once made knowne To us if not reprov'd becomes our owne We must disswade the Vice we scorne to follow We must spit out as well as never swallow 90. On CVRIO TWo Eares to let in Knowledge Nature gave To entertaine true Faith one heart we have Why so I le tell thee Curio in briefe Our knowledge twice exceeds our halfe beleefe 91. On ZELVSTVS ZElustus thinks his paines are worth his labour If he love God though he traduce his Neighbour His hot-mouth'd Zeale false-gallops on so fast In the Table't tyers in the last Art thou a faithfull Steward of Gods store Zelustus that spendst Sixe and keepst but Foure 92. On Philautos PHilauto's Charity is like a Mouse That keepes at home and never leaves the house Till it be fir'd It stirres for no mans cause Vnlesse to feed on Crumms of vaine Applause Take heed Philautos lest thou heed too late The Mouse in time will eate up thy Estate 93. On Dubius DVbius Thy eares are two Thy tongue but one Heare God and Priest Confesse to God alone 94. To Sir Julius Cesar Master of the Rolâ—es THe high Perfections wherwith heav'n do's please To crowne our transitory dayes are these Goods well possest and not possessing thee A faithfull Friend equall in love degree Lands fruitfull and not conscious of a Curse A boastlesse hand a Charitable purse A smiling Conscience A contented Mind A sober knowledge with true Wisedome jâ—ynd A Brest well temper'd Dyet without Art Surfeit or want A wisely-simple Heart Pastimes ingenious lawfull manly sparing A Spirit not contentious rash but daring A Body healthfull found and fit for labour A House well order'd and an equall Neighbour A prudent wife and constant to the roofe Sober but yet not sad and faire enough Sleepe seasonable moderate and secure Actions heroicke constant blamelesse pure A life as long as faire and when expir'd A glorious Death unfeard as undesir'd 95. On LVCRO LVcro how poor thy Tyrant-wealth has made thee How miserable poore It has betrayd thee To thy owne seeming selfe And it is growne As little thine or lesse then thou thy owne Alas poore Lucro how thy fruitfull pawnes Abuse thy Stomacke that so often yawnes For a good Morsell whilst thy Saint does rome Like a Dâ—coy t' entice evill Angels home Whose more imperious presence must controule And fright the peace of thy perplexed Soule Lucro be slave no longer to thy pelse Sub due thy Gold and make thy selfe thy selfe But if thy Saint be growne too strong for thee He tell thee Lucro Turne thy Saint to me 96. On MENDAX FAire-spoken Mendax on the least occasion Sweares by his Faith and by his owne Salvation Is rashâ—brayne Mendax well advised then To pawne his Faith in God for Faith with Men Sure small 's thy Wit or Credit to be drawne For Wares so poore to leave so great a Pawne 97. On BLANDVS VVHen ere I wish my Blandus a Good morâ—ow He is my Servant If I come to borrow Or but salute my Blandus passing by I am your Servant Blandus does reply If court my Blandus I must understand He is my Servant and does kisse my hand Discourse with Blandus ev'ry Clause shall be I am your Servant If he drinke to me My Servant does it I returne his Love My Servant pledges If my lips doe move A Suit he is my Servant Though I doe Abuse my Blandus hee 's my Servant too How blest am I his service should be such To me He never told his God so much How much dear Blandus hast thou bound me thine That art his Servant not so much as mine 98. On Rebellio THe stout Rebellio scourged by his God Slights his Correction and
DIVINE FANCIES Digested into EPIGRAMMES MEDITATIONS AND OBSERVATIONS BY FRA QVARLES LONDON Printed by M. F. for IOHN MARRIOT and are to be sold at his Shop in St. Dunstans Churchyard in Fleetstreet 1633. TO THE ROYALL BVDDE OF MAIESTIE and Center of all our Hopes and Happinesse CHARLES Prince of Great BRITAINE France and Ireland SONNE and HEYRE Apparant to the High and Mighty CHARLES by the Grace of GOD King of Great BRITAINE FRANCE and IRELAND c. Illustrious Infant GIve mee leave to acknowledge my selfe thy Servant ere thou knowst thy Selfe my Prince My Zeale burnes mee and my desires are impatient My breeding Muse longs for greene fruit and cannot stay thy ripenesse Sweet Babe The loyalty of my Service makes bold to consecrate these early Leaves to thy sacred Infancie not knowing how to glorifie themselues more then by the Patronage of such Princely Innocencie Modell of Sweetnesse Let thy busie Fingers entertaine this slender Present and let thy harmelesse Smiles crowne it When thy Infancie hath crackt the Shell let thy Childhood tast the Kernell In the meane while let thy little hands and Eyes peruse it Lugge it in thy tender Armes and lay thy burthen at thy Royall Parents feet for whose sake it may gaine some honor from their glorious Eyes Heaven blesse thy Youth with Grace and crowne thy Age with Glorie Angells conduct thee from the Cradle to the Crowne Let the English Rose and the French Lilly florish in thy louely Cheeke And let their united Colours presage an euerlasting League Let the eminent Qualities of both thy renowned Grand-fathers meet in thy Princely Heart that thou mayst in Peace be honourable and in Warre victorious And let the great addition of thy Royall Parents Vertues make thee vp a most incomparable Prince the firme Pillar of our happines and the future Object of the Worlds wonder Expected and prayd for by Your Highnesses most Loyall and humble servant FRA QVARLES TO THE RIGHT HONOVrable and truely vertuous Lady MARY Countesse of Dorset Governesse to that Royall Infant CHARLES Prince of Great BRITAINE France and Ireland the Mirror of unstained HONOVR Most excellent LADY YOV are that Starre which stands over the place where the Babe lyes By whose directions light I am come from the East to present my Myrrh and Frankincense to the yong Child Let not our Royall JOSEPH nor his Princely MARY be affrayd there are no Herods here We have all seene his Starre in the East and have rejoyced Our loyall hearts are full for our eyes have seene him in whom our Posterity shall bee blessed To him most honorable Lady I addresse my thoughts To Him I presume to consecrate these Lines which since it hath pleased our gracious Soveraigne to appoint you the Governesse of his Royall Infancy I have made bold to present first to your noble hands not daring in my very thoughts to disjoyne whom his Sacred Majestie in so great Wisedome hath put together or to consider severally where his Highnesse hath made so in violable a Relation Madam May your Honors increase with your howers and let eternall Glory crowne your Uâ—rtues that when this Age shall sleepe in Dust our Children yet unborne may honour your glorious Memory under the happinesse of his Government whose Governesse you are which shall be daily the Subject of his Prayers who is The sworne-Servant of your Ladiships Perfections FRA QVARLES To the Readers REaders I wil not like One that knowes the strength of his owne Muse commit Rape upon your Vnderstandings nor rayle at your Ignorances if our Wits jumpe not I have written at my owne peril understand you at your owne pleasures I have nor so little Man in me as to want my faults nor so much Foole in me as to thinke it nor so little Modesty as to sweare it nor so much Childe in me as to whine at Zoilus My request is That the faultles hand may cast the first stone So although I cannot avoyd the common Lot of man Error I may escape the punishment of the Common Man Censure I heere present thee with a Hive of Bees laden some with Waxe and some with Honey Feare not to approach There are no Waspes there are no Hornets here if some wanton Bee should chance to buzze about thine eares stand thy Ground and hold thy hands There 's none wil sting thee if thou strike not first If any doe she hath Honey in her Bagge will cure thee too In playner tearmes I present thee with a Booke of Fancies Among which as I have none to boast of so I hope I shall have none to blush at All cannot affect all If some please all or all some 't is more then I expect I had once thought to haue melted the Title and cast it into severall Bookes and have lodg'd Observations Meditations and Epigrams by themselves but new thoughts have taken place I have required no helpe of Herauld either to place or to proclaime them Cards well shuffled are most fit for Gamesters And oftentimes the pastime of Discovery adds pleasure to the Enioyment The Generous Faulkner had rather retrive his Partridge in the open Feilds then meet her in his coverd Dish Only this when you read a Meditation let me entreate thee to forget an Epigramme Fare-well AD LECTORES VTRIVSque GENERIS Candide si mala sint nostra inter carmina parce Et bona si quae sint Zoile parco tibi To GOD. GLorious and Great whose power did divide The Waves and made them Walls on either side That didst appeare in Cloven-tongues of Fyre Divide my thoughts and with thy selfe inspire My soule O cleave my Tongue and make it scatter Various Expressions in a various Matter That like the painefull Bee I may derive From sundry Flow'rs to store my slender Hive Yet may my Thoughts not so divided be But they may mixe againe and fixe in Thee DIVINE FANCIES Digested into EPIGRAMMES MEDITATIONS AND OBSERVATIONS 1. On the Musique of Organs OBserve this Organ Marke but how it goes 'T is not the hand of him alone that blowes The unseene Bellowes nor the Hand that playes Upon th'apparent note-dividing Kayes That makes these wel-composed Ayres appeare â—â—fore the high Tribunall of thine earâ— They both concurre Each acts his severall part Th' one gives it Breath the other lends it Art Man is this Organ To whose every action Heav'n gives a Breath a Breath without coaction Without which Blast we cannot act at all Without which Breath the Vniverse must fall To the first Nothing it was made of seeing In Him we live we move we have our Being Thus fill'd with his Diviner breath and back't With his first power we touch the Kayes and act He blowes the Bellowes As we thrive in skill Our Actions prove like Musicke Good or Ill. 2 On the contingencie of Actions I Saw him dead I saw his Body fall Before Deaths Dart whoÌ„ tears must not recall Yet is he not so dead but that his Day Might
Great ones would not let us feed thy flock Vnles we plaâ—'d the fooles and wore a Frock We were forbid unles wee 'd yeeld to signe And crosse their browes they say a mark of thine To say the truth great Iudge they were not fed Lord here they be but Lord they be all dead Ah cruel Shepheards Could your conscience serve Not to be fooles and yet to let them sterve What if your Fiery spirits had bin bound To Antick Habits or your heads bin crownd With Peacocks Plumes had ye bin forc'd to feed Your Saviours dear-bought Flock in a fools weed He that was scorn'd revil'd endur'd the Curse Of a base death in your behalfs nay worse Swallow'd the cup of wrath charg'd up to th' brim Durst ye not stoope to play the fooles for him 34. Doe this and live DOe this and live T is true Great God then who Can hope for life for who hath power to Doe Art thou not able Is thy Taske too great Canst thou desier help Canst thou intreat Aid from a stronger Arm Canst thou conceive Thy Helper strong enough Canst thou beleeve The suffrings of thy dying Lord can give Thy drooping shoulders rest Doe this and live 35. On Ioseph and his Mistresse WHen as th' Egyptian Lady did invite Wel-favor'd Ioseph to unchast delight How well the motion and the place agreed A beastly Place and t was a beastly Deed A place well season'd for so foule a sin Toâ— sweet to serve so foule a Master in 36. On Scriptum est SOme words excell in vertue and discover A rare conclusion thrice repeated over Our Saviour thrice was tempted thrice represt Th'assaulting tempter with thrice SCRIPTVM EST. If thou would'st keepe thy soule secure from harme Thoâ— know'st the words It is a potent Charme 37. On the flourishing of the Gospell HOw doe our Pastures florish and refresh Our uberous Kine so faire so full of flesh How doe our thriving Cattell feed our young With plenteous Milk with their flesh the strong Heav'n blest our Charles and he did our late Iames From Pharohs troubles and from Pharohs Dreames 38. On Ioseph's Speech to his Brethren GOe â—etch your Brother said th' Egyptian Lord If you intend our Garniers shall afford Your craving wants their so desir'd supplies If He come not by Pharoes life y' are Spies Ev'n as your Suits expect to find our Grace Bring him or dare not to behold my face Some little food to serve you on the way We here allow but not to feed delay When you present your Brother to our Hand Ye shall have plenty and possesse the Land Away and let your quicke obedience give The earnest of your Faiths Do this and live If not your wilfull wants must want supply For ye are Spies and ye shall surely dye Great God th' Egyptian Lord resembles Thee The Brother 's Iesus and the Suitors Wee 39. Of common Devotion OVr God and Souldiers we alike adore Ev'n at the Brink of danger not before After deliverance both alike requited Our God 's forgotten and our Souldier's slighted 40. On the Day of Iudgement O When shal that time come wheÌ„ the loud Trump Shall wake my sleeping Ashes from the Dump Of their sad Vrne That blessed Day wherein My glorifi'd my metamorphiz'd Skin Shall circumplexe and terminate that fresh And new refined substance of this flesh When my transparent Flesh dischargd froÌ„ groanâ—s And paynes shall hang upon new polisht Bones When as my Body shall re-entertaine Her cleansed Soule and never part againe VVhen as my Soule shall by a new Indenture Possesse her new-built house come down and enter VVhen as my Body and my Soule shall plight Inviolable faith and never fight Nor wrangle more â—or alcercat agin About that strife-begetting question Sin VVhen Soule and Body shall receive their Doome Of O yee Blessed of my Father Come VVhen Death shall be exil'd and damn'd to dwell VVithin her proper and true Center Hell VVhere that old Tempter shall be bound in Chaynes And over-whelm'd with everlasting paynes VVhilst I shall sit and in full Glory sing Perpetuall Anthems to my Iudge my King 41. On Death VVHy should we not as well desier Death As Sleep No diffrence but a little Breath 'T is all but Rest 't is all but a Releasing Our tyred lims VVhy then not alike pleasing Being burthen'd with the sorrowes of the Day VVe wish for night which being come we lay Our Bodies downe yet when our very Breath Is yrkesome to us w' are affraid of Death Our Sleepe is oft accompanied with â—rights Distracting Dreames and dangers of the nights VVhen in the Sheets of Death our Bodie 's sure From all such Evils and we sleepe secure VVhat matter Doune or Earth what boots it whether Alas Our Bodye's sensible of neither Things that are senslesse feele nor paynes nor ease Tell me and why not Wormes as well as Fleas In Sleepe we know not whether our clos'd eyes Shall ever wake from Death w' are sure to rise I but 't is long first O is that our feares Dare we trust God for Nights and not for Yeares 42. On the Body of Man MAns Body 's like a House His greater Bones Are the maine Timber And the lesser Ones Are smaller Splints His Ribs are Laths daubd o'er Plaister'd with flesh and bloud his Mouth 's the Doore His Throat 's the narrow Entry And his Heart Is the Great Chamber full of curious Art His Midreife is a large partition Wall 'Twixt the Great Chamber and the spacious Hall His Stomacke is the Kitchin where the Meate Is often but halfe sod for want of Heate His Spleen 's a Vessell Nature does allot To take the skimme that rises from the Pot His Lungs are like the Bellowes that respire In ev'ry office quickning ev'ry Fire His Nose the Chimney is whereby are vented Such Fumes as with the Bellowes are augmented His Bowels are the Sinke whose part 's to drâ—ine All noysome filth and keepe the Kitchin cleane His Eyes like Christall Windowes cleare and bright Lets in the Obâ—ect and le ts out the sight And as the Timber is or great or small Or strong or weake 't is apt to stand or fall Yet is the likelyest Building sometimes knowne To fall by obvious Chances overthrowne Oft-times by Tempests by the full mouth'd Blasts Of Heav'n Sometimes by Fire Somtimes it wasts Through unadvis'd neglect Put case the Stuffe Were ruin-proofe by nature strong enough To conquer Time and Age Put case it should Ne'er know an end Alas Our Leases would What hast thou then proud flesh and bloud to boast Thy Dayes are ev'll at best but few at most But sad at merryest and but weake at strongest Vnsure at surest and but short at longest 43. On the young man in the Gospell HOw well our Saviour and the landed Youth Agreed a little while And to say truth Had he had will and power in his hand To keepe the Law but as he kept his Land No doubt
God we make them evill Thou mak'st them few 69. On Sinnes MY Sinnes are like the Sands upon the shore Which every Ebbe layes open to the Eye In this they differ These are cover'd ore With ev'ry Flood My sinnes still open lye If thou wilt make mine Eyes a Sea of teares O they will hide the sinnes of all my yeares 70. On KAIN and DAVID THeir Sins were equall Equall was their guilt They both committed Homicide Both spilt Their Brothers guiltles blood Nay of the twayne The first occasion was lesse foule in Kain 'T was likely Kains Murther was in heate Of blood There was no former grudge no threate But Davids was a Plott He tooke the life Of poore Vriah to enjoy his Wife Was Iustice equall Was her Ballance even Kain was punisht David was forgiven Both came to tryall But good David did Confesse that Sin which cursed Kain hid Kain bewaild the punishment wherein His Sin had plung'd him David wayles his Sin If I lament my sins Thou wilt forbeare To punish Lord or give me strength to beare 71. On PLAVSVS PLausus of late hath rais'd an Hospitall Repay'rd a Church Founded a Colledge Hall Plausus hath built a holy Temple vow'd it To God Erects a Schoole and has endow'd it Plausus hath given through his abundant pity A Spittle to the blind and lame o' th' Citty Plausus allowes a Table for the poore O' th â—Parish besides those he seeds at doore Plausus relieves the Prisons Mends the Wayes Maintaines a Lecture on the Market dayes Plausus in briefe for bounty beares the Bell Plausus has don much Good but nothing Well 72. On Sinnes MY Sinnes are like the Starres within the skyes In view in number ev'n as bright as great In this they differ These doe set and rise But ah my Sinnes doe rise but never seit Shine Son of glory and my sins are gon Like twinkling Starres before the rising Sun 73. On change of Weathers ANd were it for thy profit to obtaine All Sunshine No vicissitude of Raine Thinkst thou that thy laborious Plough requires Not Winter frosts as well as Summer fires There must be both Somtimes these hearts of ours Must have the sweet the seasonable Showres Of Teares Sometimes the Frost of chill despaire Makes our desired sunshine seeme more faire Weathers that most oppose to Flesh and Blood Are such as helpe to make our Harvest good We may not choose great God It is thy Task We know not what to have nor how to ask 74. On PROSPER TAke heed thou prosp'rous sinner how thou liv'st In Sin and thriv'st Thou that dost flourish in thy heapes of gold And summes untold Thou that hadst never reason to complaine Of Crosse or paine Whose unafflicted Conscience never found Nor Check nor Wound Beleeve it Prosper thy deceitfull Lease Allowes thee neither wealth nor Ioy nor Peace Thy golden heapes are nothing but the price Of Paradise Thy Flattering pleasures and thy ayrie â—oyes But painted Toyes Thy peacefull Conscience is but like a Dogge Tyed in a Clogge Beleeve it Prosper thy deceitfull Lease Allowes thee neither Wealth nor Ioy nor Peace Thy heapes of Gold will stand thee in no steed At greatest need Thy Eâ—pty Pleasures will convert thy laughter To groanes hereafter Thy silent Conscience when enlarg'd will roare And rage the more Beleeve it Prosper thy deceitfull Lease Affords thee neither Wealth nor Ioy nor Peace 75. On the Sight of a Plague bill FIve thousand in a weeke in one poore City Because it was thy Pleasure t was no pity Why should thou pity us Just God when we Could never finde a time to pity thee Thou never strik'st without a reason why Nor often then We easily cast our eye Vpon the punishment but blinde toth ' sin That farre transcends the judgement it calls in O if the weekly Bills of our Transgression Could but appeare and make as deepe impression In our sad hearts to make our hearts but know As great a sorrow as our Plague-bills doe No doubt no doubt but Heav'ns avenging hand Would turne a Stranger to our prosprous Land O if that weekly Catalogue of Siâ— Could with our City Bills be brought but in And be compar'd wee 'd think our Bills not high But rather wonder there are men to dye 76. On Theaters SIx dayes were made for work the seventh for rest I read of none that Heav'n ordaind for Play How have our looser Theaters transgrest The Decalogue that make it ev'ry Day Me thinkes that they should change their Trade for shame Or honour 't with a more laborious name 77. On Players and Ballad mongers OVr merry Ballads and â—ascivious Playes Are much alike To common censure both Doe stand or fall T'one sings the other sayes And both are Frippries of anothers Froth In short They 'r Priest and Clark of Belials Altar T'one makes the Sermon T'other tunes the Psalter 78. On God and the King OVr God and Prince whom God for ever blesse Are both in Mercy of a Constitution Both slow till meere necessity shall presse To put their penall Lawes in Execution And marke How in a like successe they joyne At both we grumble and at both repine 79. On the life and death of Man THe life of Man is but th' imperfect Story Of his Adventure towards future Glory For death to finish Who will sticke to say A glorious Ev'n foretells a glorious Day 80. On FOX THere was a time wo-worth that heavy time When rav'noâ—is Foxes did devoure the prime And choyce of all our Lambs But Heav'n did raise A more ingenuous Fox in after dayes Whose high immortall Pen redeem'd their breath And made those Lambs revive in spight of death To see how mutuall Saintly Favours be Thou gav'st them life that now give life to thee 81. On the Booke of Common Prayes THe Booke of Common Pray'r excels the rest For Pray'rs that are most Common are the beâ—â— 82. To MVNDANO WOldst thou Mundano prove too great too strong For peevish Fortunes angry brow to wrong Renounce her power Banish Fortune hence And trust thee to the hands of Providence The poorest heart that ever did importune Heav'ns ayd is farre above the frownes of Fortune 83. On Romes Sacrifices IT cannot be excus'd It is a wrong Proceeding from a too-too partiall tongue To say The profer'd service of false Roâ—â— Had no good savor and did never come Toth ' gates of Heav'n Eye poore Rome's belyde For when our Troopes of glorious Martyrs dy'd In that warm age who were their Priests By whom Was their blood shed Was 't not by holy Rome Such sweet Perfumes I dare be bold to say Rome never burnt before nor since that day A sweeter Incense save his dying Son Heav'n ne'r accepted since this World begun 84. On a dead Man IT is a common use to entertaine The knowledge of a great man by his Trayne How great 's the dead-man then There 's none that be So backt with troopes of Followers