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A32308 Divine passions piously and pathetically expressed in three severall bookes / written and composed for private consolation ... by Edward Calver. Calver, Edward, fl. 1649. 1643 (1643) Wing C313; ESTC R28545 68,451 138

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Palace of his soule a doore To keep in vertue and to shut out sin Were then set ope to let that traytor in Which traytor enter'd struck with sin as dead The whole man from the feet unto the head Who to thy foe thus being brought in thrall Lost both thy image and himselfe withall Nay yet lost more for by this cursed deed Losing himselfe he lost his wretched seed He lost thy image lost thy love thy grace He lost himselfe his happinesse and race Oh fearfull losse and eke oh fearfull gain Thou wert depos'd thy enemy did raigne Thy image lost the divell put on his Heaven was exchang'd for hels most deep abysse Lord what a heavy hidious change was here Lord how did man then in thy sight appear Lord with what patience couldst thou then abide To see the divell so in triumph ride Or Lord what pity in thy bowels boyl'd To see poore Adam so for ever foyl'd To see poore Adam thus undone by theft Thus of his jewells of thy grace bereft Cast out by thee of Paradise below And left unto the malice of his foe Nay foes indeed and a most potent troup The creatures all who were ordain'd to stoup At Adams beck now in rebellion rose The elements they all became his foes Which were his friends and all at peace before The winds to rage the sea began to roare The fire to burn and which of all is worst The earth for his offence became accurst Oh! Adam Adam though we may refuse As we are sons our father to accuse Yet being wounded by thy deadly blow We cannot but lament thy overthrow Hadst thou in tryall nor been over come Though we thy seed who should succeed thy room Had fallen our fall it had been small to thine Thy fall as head hath tainted all thy line Thou art our Head and we thy members be Thou art condemned how can we be free Had but a member only fault bin A member only should have dy'd therein But through the one death raigned over all Death by thy death brought all to death in thrall Death temporall that no mortall shall divert Death too eternall is our due desert Lord most immense in mercy yet so pure Thy sight can no polluted thing indure How could thy mercy and thy justice meet In viewing Adam thus from off his feet But how can we thy mysteries discusse Whose wayes are so past finding out by us Thou in thy wisdome it is so divine Couldst make thy mercy through thy justice shine When thou whose wayes cannot be understood Saw'st Adam thus polluted in his blood As Lord thy justice did his sentence give Of death thy mercy said unto him live Sure 't was the time of love when thou pass'd by For Adam only had deserv'd to dye That justice did injoyne but live again Thy mercy only did that musicke strain Oh! heavenly musick harmony most blest Thus peace and justice truth and mercy kist Justice by death thus satisfi'd in striving Mercy againe thus answer'd by reviving But Adams soule did first to sin consent His body guilty as an instrument Could then the death of Adams body serve When Adams soule did greatest death deserve No no alas that cannot serve the turne Although the body should for ever burne In flames of hell it could not satisfie Thou hast pronounc'd the soule that sins shall dye Most gracious God and great beyond conceit How could poore Adam beare this heavy weight Poore feeble fearfull faint and bending reed Support a burden infinite indeed Here was indeed the depth of miseries Adam must dye but death would not suffice His fact so foule and infinite had bin Death temp'rall could not expiate his sin Justice must yet be satisfi'd by dying Death temp'rall it could not be satisfying Adam must therefore suffer death eternall Or rather live a death which is infernall Lord thus we finde and make confession must Thy wayes are right our condemnation just We thus behold thy streams of justice flowing Most justly to our utter overthrowing But though thy justice seem'd to goe before Yet thou hadst mercy treasur'd up in store To free those slaves that Adam brought in thrall That so thou might'st have mercy upon all Well may we say love in thy bosome burn'd And bowells in thee of compassion yern'd How like a deare and most indulgent father Or like a melting hearted mother rather Who when her infant hath receiv'd some harmes Then most bemoanes it in her tender armes Even so thy goodnes did thy love bewray In that thy mercy could not brook delay But in the instant whiles the wound did bleed Prescrib'd a plaister for the wounded seed And mov'd with fury against Adams foe Who like a serpent had betray'd him so Not only for the present curs'd him for 't But thence for ever made his chaine more short And told that Serpent that the womans seed Which he had so much shaken in that reed That it should unto such a Cedar grow As should infine his Kingdome overthrow Oh! pretious promise drop'd from thine own pen Peace upon earth and good will unto men Both oyle and wine to heale the wounded man Drawn from that wounded good Samaritan Oh pretious promise by which Adams wife Late of his death becomes his means of life Oh pretious promise and for ever sweet By which divided heaven and earth did meet But Lord what seed what heavenly seed was this Whose promise only could afford such blisse Seed heavenly yea seed wonderfull indeed On which our fathers many years did feed To life yea unto life eternall while This seed it seem'd was buried in the soyle But when this promise should become fulfil'd Lord what a harvest must this seed then yeeld But when this seed converteth into bread It must give life sure to the very dead This did exceed the Manna which was given This was the bread that did come down from heaven The bread of God yea very God indeed Thy selfe oh Lord was promis'd in this seed A bread ordain'd before the world began To save the world to give new life to man And when the fulnesse of the time expir'd Thou did'st fulfill what man had long desir'd Mad'st that appear in substance to be true Which was before but shadow'd to the view But oh thou wonder-working God above Whose justice thus but amplifies thy love Who but thy selfe could have by searching pry'd How mercy could have justice satisfi'd But who but thee could ever have been brought To work a wonder as this worke was wrought That thou whose justice did mans sentence give Shouldst in thy mercy die that man might live And yet we do unto our comfort find Thou in thy mercy wert to man thus kind Rather then mankind should for ever lie In chaines of death the God of life would die But gratious God how can this granted be Thou art a spirit form corruption free The fountain too of life it selfe how then Canst thou be said to dye
ensuing pain Why strive we here in pleasures to excell Or count distresse and sorrows here a hell Dives THrice wretched yea most wretched soule am I Wretched yea wretched drown'd in misery Drown'd yea and bound in that infernall pit Which hath no bottome yea more wretched yet Not only bound but bound in chaines a yoke Perpetuall too which never shall be broke Never what never without end or date Oh! this word never makes me desperate Desperate indeed no hope for me remaines I am in hell in everlasting chaines This purgatory I am in indeed Am in 't is true but out cannot be freed Hence to redeeme me men may be at cost But all in vaine and to no purpose lost Here intercessions dirges are too late Mans love is vaine where God above doth hate Lazarus THrice happy soule am I what happy thrice Yea infinitely in a Paradise Eternall in the heavens oh best of all And yet more happy where I cannot fall No Serpent here to tempt me to rebell I have a place from whence that Serpent fell No aple here whereby I can be try'd No choice offends where nothing is deny'd Nor can I now in my affections stray Corruption thence is purged clean away And with the Angels which have ever stood I freed from ill am now confirm'd in good I now indeed am from all danger free I cannot sin then cannot punish'd be I now am happy beyond end or weight And therefore happy beyond all conceit The Authors Epigram DIves in hell now suffers for that sin Which we on earth doe take our pleasure in Dives in soule is with his sin tormented We in the body are with sin contented Dives in soule contemplates his hard fate We in the body ponder not our state Dives in hell as desperate must indure We upon earth are desperately secure Lazarus in heaven contemnes all earthly toyes We upon earth regard not heavenly joyes Lazarus in soule now freed from earth hath rest We in the body thinke that thraldome best Lazarus in soule hath now in fault to mind We in the body nothing but offend Lazarus in heaven hath now no cure in ●ake We upon earth have our accounts to make Dives DIstressed soule my miseries indeed Are out of measure yet must more exceed Distressed soule what punished by art Thus fully tortur'd and yet but in part I in my soule am hellishly distrest While my corrupted carkasse is at rest But that and I ere long must meet againe Not to asswage but to increase my paine Unhappy soule was I indeed the first That did offend that I am punish'd worst I am in hell the body yet seems free Did I pollute the body or that me But this is sure both were created good And in that state wherein we might have stood The Apple was unto the eye presented But I unto the eating in consented Lazarus I Happy I who once was wretched heal'd Am now in soule in that Elysian field Mear heaven celestiall Paradise where I In boundlesse pleasures greater to discry I happy I have many years injoy'd What pleasures may be from the body void Which freedome might have justly been reputed A comfort when the body was polluted But when the body shall new formed be And made immortall from corruption free Shall to me by the hand of the Creator Be joyn'd againe my joy shall then be greater My present joyes are infinite yet some Of them in hope which hopes shall then become All hop'd for pleasures then shall be suppli'd The new form'd Bridegroome have his reform'd bride The Authors Epigram MOst happy Lazarus how art thou renown'd How are thy sad and patient sufferings crown'd With ample yea within 〈◊〉 victories And shalt have yet is greater weight of glories Thou in thy body were 〈◊〉 distrest Thou in thy soule art now in heaven at rest Thou in thy soule and body joyn'd againe With Saints made perfect shall triumphant reigne Vnhappy Dives thou hast done thy mirth Thou in the body hadst thy heaven on earth But now thy spirit from the body freed Doth finde its selfe in very hell indeed Thou in the body only but devis'd To make the body were imp●rudis'd But on thy soule and time to come unheedfull The state in both is therefore now most ●readfull Dives MOst wretched I besides the woes I have Methinks I heare my bones within my graye As troubl'd with some fatall Trumpets sound Begin to shake and shiver in the ground Disquieted bones why rest you not as rotten Why are you not eternally forgotten What awfull power or dreadfull earthquake rather Is this which wakes and shakes you thus together But can the bones consumed into dust Restored be Yes wofull yes they must Both bones and flesh are but in earth refin'd They must together once againe be joyn'd Oh! how have I offended is not death Of body for the body condign wrath And hell sufficient for the soules reward No no there is a sentence yet more hard Lazarus MOst blessed I what joyes have I in store How out of measure can they yet be more Yes joyfull yes I yet more joyes shall finde When once my body to my soule be joyn'd When that long look'd for act is to be done How shall my flesh and bones together run And by the rising of that Lambe was slaine Have power infused to stand up again Then from the sad sepulchre of anoy How shall I but lift up my head with joy And in the body deeply ravish'd be Thus from that prison set for ever free Besides my body which now rests in peace Shall then from all corruption have release And like a Bridegroom ready trim'd to me The bride for ever shall new marri'd be The Authors Epigram OH Dives Dives thou on earth hadst store Hadst all things in abundance no man more But when thy sleep be slept dost understand Thou shalt awake with nothing in thy hand Oh! whither would thy soule then take her flight To keep out of the body if it might How would it rather forth the body dwell Then in the body feel another hell But Lazarus thou shalt then come forth with joy Thou in the world hadst nothing but annoy But when that day of restitution comes Thou shalt have plenty Dives not the crums Thy body which in rags was bound up here Shall then in most celestiall robes appear Thy soule therewith much ravish'd and delighted Shall in much pleasure be thereto united Dives T Is true indeed yea too to true alas As Scripture speaks which alwaies comes to passe It is decre'd for all men once to dye But were that all more happy then were I. But oh this sentence is not here confin'd The soule and body must againe be joyn'd The soul from hell the body from its tombe And after death must unto judgement come Confounded wretch how shall I then subsist Which if I might not I the more were blest But yet I must alas
never faile shall burne From whence we never never shall returne Lazarus HOw shall I prize those words to me exprest Oh! Come thou blessed enter thou my rest Sweet meditations heav'nly joyes in heart These thoughts indeed are very heav'n in part How shall I then who once was most debas'd Be with much glory on the right hand plac'd And sit with Angels and with Saints to see The bad condemned and the good set free How shall I thence ascend up far above When my Redeemer shall his Court remove When Saints shall sing and Angels shall rejoyce How shall we mount up with a merry noyse How justly then shall Jesus wear the crown He having put all adversaries down How lowd in heav'n shall I his prayses sing There grac'd to wait upon so great a King The Authors Epigram ONce silly Lazarus now a Saint at rest Ere long a judge at last a son most blest Who could have seen when thou wert upon earth That thou hadst in thee any signe of worth When Kings and great men shall be in despaire At the great Sessions holden in the ayre There thou shalt in Commission sit and thence Ascend far higher with the highest Prince But once rich Dives now poore Dives nam'd Ere long arraign'd at last for ever damn'd Who would have thought when thou wert in thy pride That robes of purple could such ruines hide When Saints which here thou mad'st to mourne shall sing At heavens Assises thou thy hands shalt wring And to the mountaines and the hils complaine To fall and hide thee but alas in vaine Dives TOrmented wretch might I remaine in hell Only in soule tormented it were well Well though in woes which cannot be exprest Yet to the woes which are to come a rest But oh my body which in earth now lying Is as but in a furnace purifying Till it be such when it is fully try'd As may for ever burning flames abide That must againe my wofull soule ingage Which burning prison shall my soule inrage The one unto the other adding fuell The angry divells evermore most cruell Oh! Adam Adam why fogot'st thou this When thou for ever might'st have liv'd in blisse When thou on earth in Paradise didst dwell Thou thought'st not then on a perpetuall hell Lazarus NOw happy yea now heavenly I and sure 'T is only that makes happinesse secure When once my body from the grave be freed How shall I then be comforted indeed When my blest soule and body both united Shall reigne in heaven how shall I be delighted How shall I here be fully satisfi'd Where pleasant streames of endlesse pleasure glide One joy doth here another joy begin Increase of joyes makes joy increase therein Here from one fountaine rivers do distill Where Saints and Angels ever drinke their fill Here are those riches which all wants supply Because they alwayes fully satisfie Here are those joyes which are for ever crown'd Here nothing else but joy is to be found The Authors Epigram LAzarus Thy soule shall downe ere long retire To give thy body motion to mount higher Most swiftly soaring on thy Eagle wings From earth to heaven unto the King of Kings How highly there shall heavenly Angels place thee How sweetly there shall fellow Saints imbrace thee How welcome there shall Christ thy Saviour make thee How pleasing there shall God the Father take thee But with thee Dives thus it shall not be The clean contrary shall be true in thee When thou in soule and body shalt be cast Into that gaping cave of hell at last How eager shall the divels then be on thee How gastly shall the damned gaze upon thee What outward tortours shalt thou feel within What endlesse torments shalt thou then begin Dives OH savage senses brutish appetites In sensuall pleasure was your choice delights Your rage was only ruler in my heart You did command my understanding part Yea in my little Microcosmus vaine Did like so many heathen Princes reigne The world and all things in the world at will Were yours and yet you unsufficed still Thus all that world could not suffice my lust The divells therefore in another must My appetites which there did so excell Shall here be gorg'd with infinites in hell Each several sense which could not there be cloy'd Shall here be fed till it would food avoid Only the difference that shall then appear There fed with pleasures but with torments here Lazarus THe outward senses which to some are those Where at they drink in rivers of repose Were unto me but Cunduit pipes of care To let in floods of misery and feare My senses and my appetites I grant Did often gape and hunger in my want But for the most part hunger'd in despaire Or fed on troubles and infected ayre But when my body here above shall reigne My senses shall not covet here in vaine Each severall sense and secret appetite Shall here be fed with fuln●sse of delight Here is that banquet which delight each taste Here is that oyle which drawne on doth not waste Here are those cases once figur'd in a sheet Here is that manna which is ever sweet The Authors Epigram THus purblinde we on earth may partly see What plagues in hell prepared be That seeing those we so may have a care To kill sin heer if be not punish'd there Thus sinfull we whose sinnes or soules must die Our sinnes heer or our soules eternally May labour heer to put our sinnes to death Our tender soules may scape eternall wrath And thus again when we have got like men Some manly conquest over beastly sin We may with comfort view those joyes on high Where men shall live that make their sinnes to die Thus we of all may rightly make good use Fore-sight of danger oft prevents abuse And where the prize is glorious to behold It makes the dullest enterpriser bold Dives MY sense of taste was upon earth that Cooke Within whose Kitchin I most pleasure tooke And when its sacrifice was on the fire I offer'd up my earnestest desire This sug'red sense or rather savage beast Which oft devour'd when I could not digest Which still cri'd kill let sacrifice be slaine And drunk down liquor as the earth doth raine This idoll sense shall one day have its fill When soule and body 's sacrific'd in hell Where fiery fiends are cooks for ever killing And Divels tapsters diligent in filling Which cookes with scorching shall my throat inflame Those tapsters powre down sulphur in the same My soule with torments tortur'd for my sin Shall curse blaspheme and roar and rave within Lazarus MY sense of taste or taste of sense indeed Because I was most sensible of need Requir'd on earth no cooke at all because Still griping hunger gave my meat a sawce Yea I full oft was glad if I had meat Yea glad of that which others scorn'd to eat Yea glad of crums yea often driven to fast And glad to smell the meat
thy store That thou mights furnish what was void before Yea to make fruitfull and adorne that frame Both to inrich and beautifie the same Thou sayd'st unto the waters multiply Be fruitfull and bring forth abundantly Who hearing in their language what was said Without delay most cheerfully obey'd Thou sayd'st unto the earth then barren beare The earth did as it were thy language hear And brought forth thousands multitudes and more Of creatures which were never seen before And to the ayre thy word did but proceed Let there be foules and it was so indeed Lord what a large and wondrous preparation Was this which was the spacious worlds creation To entertaine whose greatnesse was it than Alas but for that little creature Man Nay as if this had been too little still To manifest to mankinde thy good will Thou didst prepare a garden ready deck'd With all the objects in it of delight That might seem pleasing fruit delicious growing On trees most fruitfull streams most pleasant flowing Whose flowry banck with flowers and roses set Appear'd more glorious then the pearles in jet All this prepared in this heavenly sort Thou caldst this councell in thy heavnly court Come let us make man in our Image drest For whom we have created all the rest Thou took'st a peece then of thy late form'd clay And form'd a man in a most perfect way And by a way can not be understood That form converted into flesh and blood Thou only breathedst on his breathlesse face Which gave him life and with that life thy grace Which was infus'd into that power divine His soule in which thy sacred selfe did shine His body was in such perfection made That till the Serpent did his soule invade It could not suffer any kind of wrath But had a power against the power of death But for his soule that was divine indeed In it thou couldst thy sacred Image read In Characters which none could understand So well as thee because it was thy hand Within that center thou couldst cleerly see In one the picture of thy persons three Three faculties within it representing Three Persons in thy Deitie consenting As Father Son and holy Ghost agree To make but one eternall God in thee So understanding memory and will Make but one soule and undevided still The understanding of it selfe as prime The memory by knowledge got in time The will and the affections lastly breeding From knowledge and from memory proceeding All these at first in Adams soule were pure And sparks which had a nature to indure Adam was in his understanding part So holy and so innocent in heart That nakednesse unto his conscience cleere Did neither shame nor nakednesse appeare His memory was unpolluted still Because his knowledge had begot no ill His thoughts his fancies meditations sweet And did not with the least disturbance meet His will and his affections all were free'd From all corruption as they might indeed Those cisterns must with water pure be fill'd Whose fountaines have no other streames to yeeld Lord what a heav'nly harmony was here When all these strings were thus in tune and cleere Heav'nly indeed for thou hadst set the keyes Rare musick for an earthly paradise Again besides this concord in his brest Which cannot be sufficiently exprest All things without him were at peace and stay'd The Lion and the Lamb together play'd Each creature did with other feed and sleep And all to Adam innocent as sheep All these thou gav'st him freely to command Yea all the world as it did blooming stand And bad'st him take and eate restraining none Of all the dainties in the world but one And that was no restraint to him no doubt His mind was so well satisfi'd without He had not then that motion in him hidden To covet that most which is most forbidden And in this state that Adam might have stood He had a power to have restrain'd that good Only thou mad'st his libertie so free That he might stand or he might fall from thee But Adam loe he stood not long thus great Grac'd with a help too meet for his estate But that the divell all his force imployd To worke upon the freedome man injoy'd The Serpent Sathan Lucifer that star Which heavens had cast out in a holy war Thrown forth for ever to extend his pride At most no higher then the clouds do ride Who being downe into that chaos hurld Where out at length thou did'st create the world And having fram'd that building by thy power Plac'd man as chiefe upon its highest tower This author both of envy and deceit Admiring Adam in his matchlesse height His rancor did with boyling envy swell He rais'd his powers and stratagems of hell And joyn'd them all for a most deadly fight Against poore Adam innocent and quiet But recollecting as it were his course Of seising upon Adam so by force Perceiving Adams happinesse did lye Most in his soule which death could not destroy This deep imposter and most subtill fiend Dissembled malice and would seem a friend And sought by fair means so to take away Those pearls in Adam force could not betray He sought to Eve first but to Adam by her And tempted Adam whiles he seem'd to try her His baite he unto Eves acceptance laid But Eve consenting Adam was betray'd For Sathans fore-cast aym'd at this event That Adam would give smiling Eve content And by that means to bring them both in thrall Made one a means to make the other fall Oh! fatall means and fearfull too alas For by that means he brought his will to passe The bait he proffer'd to obtaine his suit It was no lesse then the forbidden fruit Faire to the eye and pleasing to the tast But strong and deadly poyson to digest The arguments he used to perswade Were that they thereby should like Gods be made Knowing both good and evill which was true In part for they till then no evill knew But Adam tasting by the divels art That only fruit which thou hadst set apart And told him if he tasted he should dye Though Sathan did that certaine truth deny Adam did thereby instantly become A slave to Sathan subject to thy doome And conscious of his sin and therefore said He saw his nakednesse and was afraid Afraid indeed afraid he well might be Made thus a bondslave who before was free And not alone to Sathan but to sin To his affections now defil'd within His senses yea his soule became defil'd And all the streames that issu'd thence were soyld His understanding which before was pure Became corrupted earthly and obscure His memory a nursery of store In which he treasur'd up contents before Became a tedious Register wherin His conscience did torment him for his sin His will and his affections which were just Became rebellious and disorder'd lust His heart where innocencie sat as Queen Became a cage of spirits most uncleane Yea every sence of his which were before Unto the
me to assigne Some meanest office though to feed the swine But all in vaine her greatnesse did abhor me Had neither place nor yet imployment for me But sternly told me of my sad subjection To wofull stocking whipping and correction Whereat amaz'd I soone was strucken mute Betwixt despair and growing resolute Unto the last bad counsell did intice Bad nature too but grace restrained vice The Authors Epigram DEceitfull world deciphering thy state Who can but erre thou art unto the great A flattering Syren but unto the small A very savage cruell Caniball Thou dandl'st youthfull Dives on thy knee Till with thy pleasures he inchanted be But having got the thing which thou wouldst have Thou mak'st him then thy most contented slave But if poor Lazarus seekes to be imploy'd Or sues for aide he is by thee deny'd Thou only cry'st he doth thy honour blemish Correct the rascall let the vermine famish Alas poore Lazarus of the world excluded Alas rich Dives by the world deluded Poore Lazarus starves his penurie is such Again rich Dives surfets with too much Dives VVHen as the world had given my will content Or I had given unto the world consent Her various beauties did me so inflame My very heart was ravisht with the same I freely drunk her pleasures with delight Whereof the more I drunk the more I might Her profits were unto my hot desire But as more fuell to increase that fire Her greatnesse with respect unto her honour Did for preferment make me wait upon her Her glories were so radiantly set forth I thought upon no other heav'n but earth On earth I only did set up my stay I gave my sences and affections sway And having treasure which might long endure I in that harbour thought my selfe secure Lazarus MOst wretched creature destitute of ayd Of all men loathed and in limmes decay'd I could not worke and therefore might not eat But griping hunger and inforce for meat Beg then I must and so I did indeed I made the world acquainted with my need I made my greefe apparant but alas I I must be punish'd for I had no passe Yet still I beg'd as to that thraldome ty'd Though oft upon my tender kneen deny'd I cry'd for succour and did shew my sores Where people passed and at rich mens dores Thus whiles I beg'd I got reliefe of some But without wofull begging not a crumme High wayes and hedges were any shrouds by day By night full glad to shroud my selfe in hay The Authors Epigram RIch Dives laughs and doth in pleasures swim As if they only were ordain'd for him Poore Lazarus weeps and makes this pitious mone I drinke the sorrowes of the world alone Rich Dives doth no earthly comfort misse By birth much wealth if not the world is his But silly Lazarus as it doth appeare Is borne to beg or borne to nothing heere Rich Dives heere is master and commands Much force if not too much is in his hands Poore Lazarus heere is but the scumme of all Must stoope to meane men downe to rich men fall Dives hath friends is spoken to most faire Dives the worlds owne darling yea her heire Lazarus is only left no love no friend Lazarus is only loath'd but marke the end Lazarus COnsum'd with hunger misery and care Decrep't with cold for want of rags to weare My pined corps and panting heart for ayd Began to languish and my health decay'd With many sighes in this my sad estate I got at length unto the rich mans gate Where in my anguish in my paine and griefe I hop'd for succour and I beg'd reliefe I cal'd I cry'd and as I durst I knock'd But all in vaine the rich mans gate was look'd No gate no doores no eares could open'd be His Curres did far more kindnes shew then he Whereat my heart within my wretched breast Was strucke as dead yea with meere death possest Thus left of man all mercy me denying God everliving shew'd me mercy dying Dives VVHat am I struck with melancholy's dart Come earthly comforts come revive my heart What have you lost your vertue or your skill Which wont to cure me Oh! I yet am ill What desperate change is now in my disease That now offendeth which was wont to please My earthly pleasures and my endlesse gaines Doe now disquiet me nor asswage mu paines Come make my will then of my wealth with speed For now I finde it failes me at my need And run to some Physitian with my state Some learned Doctor for my paines are great Come Doctor come my sicke estate behold Come shew your learning give some ease for gold Some present helpe unto my heart apply A world for life helpe helpe alas I dye The Authors Epigram IF Dives surfets and grown sicke is sad No earthly aid is wanting can be had His friends abound Physitians dare be bold To strive sometimes beyond their rules for gold But wofull Lazarus of the world neglected Lies sicke forsaken harbourlesse rejected No friends to chear no physicke for his good He surfets not but rather sterves for food Rich Dives now he feels unto his pain That all his wealth yea all the world is vain When sicknesse comes their sweetnesse is but small When death their hony then converts to gall Poore Lazarus all his life time in distresse Whose very face deciphers wretchednesse When sicknesse comes it makes him death require When death it gives him what he doth desire Dives O Death most cruell I thou hast struck my heart O wretched body I thou and I must part Thou to a rotting resting place a while I to the ruefull dungeon of exile Thou now a carkaise I a cursed soule Beset with fiends which will have no controule Out of thy prison now I see full cleare Most ugly Divels as they are appeare They seaze upon me with infernall spite They tell me I belong to them by right I have beene by them many yeeres imploy'd Although they by me have not beene discry'd And therefore now I must with them away They long have wayted but have now their prey They must unto proud Lucifer return With me that monster doth in fury burne Lazarus LOng wish'd for day most welcome death to me Which sets me thus from all my sufferings free My wither'd corps now rest in hope to rise My weary'd soul is now on wing and flies Most happy change I how is my chance amended On earth cast out with Angels now attended Who all my life did succour me distrest And now at death will carry me to rest In soule I meane which from my body freed Now viewes those Angels as they are indeed Which sight excels all earthly joyes as far As doth the Sun the most inferiour Star Which glorious spirits with delight inspir'd To see my soule thus out of thrall retir'd Doe in their fiery chariots now of love Thus in my spirit early me above The Authors Epigram HEere I must
I might not taste But when I in my body shall be grac'd To sit in heaven where none but Saints are plac'd And at most sacred invitations given Shall taste the Supper of the Lambe in heaven My taste shall then in relishing be skil'd And with each sweet distinguished be fill'd Yea taste the sweetnesse of those streames of bloud Those heavenly Fountaines which on earth were shed The Authors Epigram DIves on earth with delicates was fil'd We taste all dainties that the earth can yeeld Dives did in excesse of liquor sin We tun down barrels drown our selves therein Dives thus drinking thought not on the poore We are so drunken we forget them more Dives in hell must therefore suffer need Yea hellish woes then how shall we be freed But once poore Lazarus who on earth distrest Was both with hunger and with thirst opprest Yet in his conscience then injoy'd that feast In which we famish or much fast at least He now in heaven already hath that store We never tasted and shall yet have more For which he sought to which we make no haste For which he long'd in which we feel no taste Dives MY sense of smelling which was once so nice Each stincke offended it but stincking vice I stopt my nostrils and I shut my doores To shut out Lazarus with his fest'red sores Which ayrie sense refresh'd my other powers By sweet perfumes and odoriferous flowers Extracting thence such savours of delight As fed that most attractive appetite This sense in the infecting fogs of hell Shall suck most deadly savours by the smell And stead of flowers and sweet perfuming shall Be fed with fumes of sulphur boild in gall Besides the loathsome savours in this den Of plagued poyson'd and tormented men The stincke of fiends and divells unto me Is now most grosse and shall more grievous be Lazarus MY smelling did on earth some comfort give When I was forc'd Camelian like to live But sweet perfumes and powders vainly spent Made me not proud to make the world a sent Barns styes and stables and full glad of those Were my persumed lodgings of repose My empty stomack of this sense annoy'd My stincking sores my empty stomack cloy'd But when my body shall exalted be To reigne in heaven from all corruption free Where all things are most sweet and purely try'd This sense shall then be sweetly satisfi'd This sense shall then have the preheminence Made of the five the most reviving sense If senses then such instruments shall prove By sucking in some living ayre above The Authors Epigram IF Dives now could but those dainties smell He tasted here he would give thanks in Hell We taste like dainties double if not thrice And yet ungratefull in a Paradise But Dives who here thought not at his board Of God hath now what Divels will afford We oft forget both God and eke our selves Then what hereafter can we looke for else If Lazarus were on earth againe no doubt He would but of our sweetest odoures flout We with our seeming sug'red sweets in love Are but in jest with sweetest joyes above Lazarus did wisely send up ere he went His suits as incense which now yeeld him sent We if we will not of the like despair Must send up first a savour sweet by prayer Dives MY sense of feeling which on earth was that I nurs'd most gently as a tender brat No care was lacking to preserve that sense From the sustaining of the least offence This sense forsooth might not endure the winde I little felt the smart in any kinde Of want of woe of sicknesse or of sin Within my selfe much lesse in other men But when my soule ascending on a chaine Shall fetch my body hither from the slaine I here in hell ●hall in that tender part Be most tormented feel the greatest smart My body here fast bound in fetters lying Shall tortur'd be in flames of sulphur frying My soule most fully then shall feel the sting Of sin that serpent in my conscience wring Lazarus FRe I was borne within my mothers wombe My sense of feeling suffer'd in that tombe And only sadly comming forth that cage I in that part did first salute earths stage And in that part I panted out my breath Till I was taken off that stage by death A wretched life insu'd a painfull birth Most wretched painfull Tragedy on earth But as my soule which was on earth distrest Is now in heaven return'd unto its rest So shall my body breaking ope its grave Ascend up hither from that silent cave Where it shall feel no hunger cold nor smart But heavenly fulnesse and content of heart My feeling sense to make its fulnesse measure Shall here be only sensible of pleasure The Authors Epigram LAzarus was here most patient in distresse We murmure yea seem often mad in lesse Lazarus was not here with his sin diquieted We feel not that or are with that delighted But Lazarus now doth feel his soule at rest Our soules alas not yet with sin distrest But would we finde what Lazarus now doth feel Our hearts must first be gentle here not steel Dives here might not feel the least annoy But Dives he had there for here his joy If here we feel not penitentiall griefe We shall feel desp'rate with the damned theefe But Dives in his feeling sense in hell Is now most plagu'd which plagues shall yet excell If we here make that tender sense our god It will in hell be our most torturing rod Dives MY sense of hearing which was once most nimble To heare each Syrens sugred tongue dissemble Each sound of pleasure musick sweet and worse Hells language people swear blaspeme and curse But when the cry of Lazarus full of care Did pierce the heavens it could not make me heare Nor could those voyces sent from heaven by preaching Repent repent awake me with their teaching This sense in hell instead of musicke sweet When all the damned shall together meet Shall be compell'd to heare me helpe to make A cry in hell would make the earth to shake We desp'rate creatures roaring in hells flame The damned divells raging in the same Gods voice of justice like most hideous thunder Above us with his vengeance boyling under Lazarus MY hearing sense I once did exercise With the sad ecchoes of my childrens cries My beating heart was in my bosome stung To heare those infants cry for food so young Besides the sad heart-breakings at the doore Of rich men rating of my children poore With churlish checks and threats of further griefe Instead of yeelding comfort or reliefe This sense in heaven shall no such language heare But come you blessed kindest welcomes there No churlish motions ever shall repell My suits there granted Dives is in hell This sense in heaven to musick shall attend Which earthly senses can not apprehend For ever ravish'd with those glorious Three To heare how sweetly they in one agree The Authors Epigram
wilt be still a heathen swine Yet know God will be knowne of thee infine If here thou wilt not know him by his works A sin abominated by the Turks If here thou wilt to know him by that spark Now rak'd up in thy conscience yet his marke Nor yet wilt know him by the eye of faith Beleeving what the holy Scripture saith But dost this cloud of witnesses repell Yet God will make thee know him though in hell Yea more then know for thou shalt feel him there And in that den his Deity declare When divells shall torment thee as their owne Because thou here wouldst have no God-head known Thus I have walk'd in an unwonted strain Which some it may be will account as vaine As if I heare by some what went about To bring a truth most manifest in doubt Who is so grosse may some perhaps reply To make a question of the Deity If there be none why should I now begin To make a doubt where none before hath bin Indeed with us where so much light doth shine As if directly underneath the line With us where God so perfectly appears And as it were hath dwelt so many years If there should harbour any here so blinde So dead in sense and stupifi'd in minde As once to harbour Atheisme in thought Therein most hideous treachery were wrought Yet sith we finde that Scripture doth impart Which only can anatomize the heart That such a thought in some hath harbour'd been Yea all men are by nature so unclean Each heart by nature is deceitfull still And every thought continually ill We doubtlesse may though to our shame conclude That Atheisme is in a multitude Especially if duly we propound How meerly naturall multitudes are found Againe besides our nature which hath stood Since Adams fall an enemy to good We have another enemy as great Who hinders good with a more deadly hate The divell that arch enemy indeed To God himselfe to Adam and his seed He seeks by his inscrutible an art To steal no lesse then God out of the heart And to that purpose night and day doth spend Suggesting doubts and questions to that end By which with man he doth too much prevaile Else why did David in that nature faile Who was a man most dear to God we finde And yet the divell trap'd him in that kinde When he did almost in his thoughts complain As if that he had wish'd his hands in vain From whence it must by consequence arise God for the time was taken from his eyes Then if such lofty cedars may be shaken How may the shrubs be in that nature taken Poore creatures who have neither care nor skill To frustrate Sathans working of his will Such fiery darts the divell dayly throwes And at our hearts he doth direct his blowes And I for my part cannot testifie That any living scape them as they fly Only as aged Jesses youngest son For safety did to sanctuary run Where he beheld the wound was hid before And eke got balme to heale his bleeding sore So when we doe the tempters dart discry We may like David to the Temple fly To reading hearing meditate and pray Such fumes as those will drive the fiend away Or as old Jacobs children in distresse When bit with serpents in the wildernesse By only looking on a serpents wing Expel'd the poyson of that bite or sting Even so when Sathan that old serpent stings We may have healing underneath those wings Which Jacobs children in figure view'd To us a Christ in their similitude Thus as the divell daily doth belay To steal our goods to steal our God away God that we should by no means let him go Hath left us means to circumvent that foe And hence proceeds that combate in our breasts The flesh consenting but the soule resists But when the soule submits to carnall sense The divell then gets the preheminence And thou within whose bosome no such strife Or combate hath incumbered thy life The divell sure hath favour'd thee therein Or thou too much infatuated bin But thou that feelst no want at all of aid Thou gavst him here a Paradise indeed But thou wilt give him heaven which doth exceed Yet doe not count this altogether vaine Ther 's no such drosse but may afford some graine The troubl'd soule counts no occasion slight That may assist when it is thus in fight What thou think'st bane may be anothers meat Then what thou like'st not let another eat Though these be hearbs nay weeds out of the wood Yet hearbs nay weeds for many things are good I trust no Colloquintida is here No danger if thy stomack then be clear Lord what is man that thou art so mindfull of him Psal. 8. vers. 4. Desires of Aid MOst Gracious God as then hast lent thy hand To move my heart and to direct my pen In some weake measure thus to understand And make thee understood of other men God only wise almighty pure eternall Without whose mercy man must be infernall So let thy hand Lord be outstretched still To stir my heart that most polluted spring That in that fountaine I may dip my quill And from that depth such secret matter bring As to my selfe may make my selfe appeare That I may seek to make that fountaine clear And as we all doe to our comfort finde That thou of man hast ever mindfull been So let my lines be moving in some kinde That we again may not forget thee then But may for ever as it is our parts Inthrone thee in the centre of our hearts LOrd what is man may well be ask'd of thee None but thine eye can that exactly see Thou gav'st him life when thou hadst given him fashion Thou only therefore canst resolve that question Man peradventure like a butcher may Unmake those walls which thou hast made of clay Rip up mans body open every part Take out his entrails looke into his heart Note every artrie conduit pipe and veine And p●y into the Chamber of the brain Tell all his sinewes crushes bones and finde How every member is to other joyn'd Let this be granted as perhaps it may In some imperfect superfices way Yet what can man in this description read Of what man in perfection was indeed Alas in this man doth indeed no more Then as it were unlock the little doore Of some rich cabinet which being done Doth finde it empty all its jewels gone Where being frustate of his Chiefe desire Finds nothing left but only to admire The curious art about that little frame With lively forms yet pictures on the same Even so mans body that same heav'ns device Wherein are lock'd up all our gemmes of price When cruell death once turnes his key about Unlocks the doore and lets those jewels out Mans body straight becomes a trunke bereft Of all its matchlesse treasure empty left And nothing to the searchers eye remains To satisfie his curious eye or pains But only to admire the
Makers skill So wonderfull in working of that shell A shell indeed we may the corps affirme Which hath no soule the soule a kernell tearm The shell a chest of curious art compos'd The kirnell is the treasure therein clos'd Then of what knowledge is he like to speed Of what man is by taking up that leed Which priz'd ope once by deaths steel pointed dart Mans soule flies out which is his better part Physitians then by ripping up the dead To view the body when the soule is f●ed Can thereby doubtlesse not directly see At all times how the elements agree In humane bodies nor exactly tell How humors flow and hurtfull vapours swell When as the soule commanding in the same Sets every wheel a working in that frame But say by this and other helpfull means Whereon some learned wise Physitian leans He could at all times perfectly relate The ever changing temper and estate Of humane bodies which no mortall can I am resolv'd 't is past the reach of man But grant he could yet what were all his art Alas but to discover man in part The least part and inferior too as far As is a sparkle from a perfect star The soule indeed that is the only gem In search whereof the clearest sight is dim Grave Pliny Galen Aristotle all That men for skill did most renowned call In former times were failing in this kinde Yea in this eye of knowledge almost blinde The rayes of this so dazled them though wise The more they look'd the more they lost their eyes Excepting Cato and some other few Who were inspir'd with a more piercing view Nay what man living failes not in this kinde Who knowes the motions of anothers minde Or pryes so far into anothers breast To finde how his affections are at rest What endlesse windings occupie his thought And deep devices in his braine are wrought Which sinking to their centre do convert To secret resolutions in the heart Nay silly men we are our selves so far From self discerning what we truly are Within our selves that we can hardly tell What is amisse in us or what is well Our hearts in us are so deceitfull grown We cannot search those bottomes of our own Oh silly creatures silly sure at least Who beare we know not what within our breast Nay in our bosomes shrowd a serpent which To seem a Saint doth mightily bewitch 'T is then no marvell though we may complain That our affections are exceeding vain Our thoughts our wits and all with folly haunted When all comes from a fountain so inchanted Deluded be we out of question must Who have a power within us so unjust A power indeed most potent too a heart Which nature makes the over-ruling part Which force doth sure sufficient battell give And more then we can conquer whiles we live Yet whiles we live we must be ever trying Though cannot fully conquer without dying Lord what is man then still we must inquire We are to seek still raise our judgements higher How comes our hearts so evill and accurst Sith thou created'st all things good at first Or how come we unto our selves so blinde That in our selves our selves we cannot finde Lost we so much inheriting of sin That by that gaine we lost our selves therein Prodigious action racing such a tower Prevailing so on thy creating power What thou hadst form'd deform'd and form'd again A most deformed form which doth remain God Al-creating it was in thy power To have restrayn'd that enemy of our Who wrought upon thy workmanship so far As to unmake and make us what we are But this was for our exercise no doubt That thou maist crowne us when the field is fought Besides to make thy love appear the more Remaking us more glorious then before Thou mad'st man sinlesse subject though to slide But thou wilt make him sinlesse to abide Thou gav'st him here a Paradise indeed But thou wilt give him heaven which doth exceed Lord what is man then man that dares to sin Of whom thou hast so ever mindfull been A world before this present world was wrought Admired man was pretious in thy thought Pretious indeed in such a boundlesse measure As if that man should be thy only treasure And thereupon determin'd in thy breast To seat him highest and to love him best Such wonders in that Moses face foreseeing As pleas'd thee well before he had his being Wherein indeed was manifestly shown Thou wouldst unite mans nature to thine own When in thy wisdome thou didst think it meet To set that fore-known creature on his feet To give man form that little world to frame What preparation mad'st thou for the same What heart of man can truly on it ponder And not be rap'd up in any holy wonder Before thou wouldst this wonder undertake Thou sell'st to working wonders for his sake Six dayes almost expired in preparing Of wondrous things against this wonders roaring Thy powerfull hand thy Spirit was imploy'd By moving on a mighty Chaos void Of form or beauty thence to draw by art The dry and solid from the liquid part Both which thou having as it were given birth One part was waters and the other earth Both which continue hanging in a sort Unto our judgement without all support Indeed the waters do the earth surround Againe the earth is to the seas a bound But how this should uphold that globe from fall That doth exceed mans purest sense of all But ere these orbes were fixed not to move And sever'd from the orbes that are above Thou didst ordaine that ornament of light Creating day from a prodigious night In which thy wonder working hand was clear By making so thy wonders to appear For without light thy wonders wrought below Had been but like the secret winds that blow But it did please thee to set ope a door To let in light where darknesse dwelt before And here beneath injoyn'd a pleasant way Of entercourse between the night and day And further yet to furnish thy desire Thou yet mad'st greater lights and set them higher And plac'd the lesse in absence of the Sun That night might not to former darknesse run Besides for signes and tokens in our clymes As perfect rules distinguishing of times Nay further by their fervor from above To make the earth a fruitfull mother prove For till the Sun unto our regions come And warms the earth it seems a barren womb When thou hadst made the firmament thus faire Whose rayes come darting to us through the aire Extending severall curtaines as the shrouds Between the higher and the nether clouds That by a secret interposing way One element support another may When thou had'st drawne the waters here below Into one fountaine there to ebbe and flow And when thou had'st the face of earth made plaine And made its bars the bottome of the main Upon which sure and deep foundation lay'd The pillars rear'd whereon this frame is staid Thou then began'st to looke into
for sinfull men Besides great God if thou as God couldst dye Which thing we must for evermore deny Yet man from death could thereby not be free For man hath sin'd and man must punish'd be Oh I soule polluting deadly sinck of sin That mankind should be so defil'd therein That God himselfe and only God remain Might not forgive nor wash away the stain No way but suffering would make full supplies Offended justice claim'd a sacrifice Man had no offering that would serve the turn Thou mightst not but thy melting heart did yern Yern Lord indeed to see hells raging fire But sawst no Sacrifice to thy desire And yet that man for ever might not burn Thou didst prepare a body for the turn Because that man no sacrifice could find Nor could thy Godhead suffer in that kind Thou didst unite by everlasting ties Thy selfe to man to be a sacrifice Thy second person and thy only Son Begotten long before the world begun Who scorning shame through all the danger ran Tooke flesh upon him and was found a man A perfect man and perfect God likewise And so became a perfect sacrifice As man for man he dy'd and lay as slain As God he conquerd death and rose again A perfect man without defect by sin A perfect God he had for ever bin Hid God-head and his manhood both intire Yet joynd in one one person we admire By thy decree he put out nature on Our nature thus exceping sin alone And living guiltlesse for himselfe therein He dying free'd the guilt of other men But being guiltlesse death was not his due Indeed respecting of himselfe t is true But he be came man onely to that end As free to free men that by sin offend But could the death of one suffice for all Yes such a one as we may truly call Both God and man yea God whose sacrifice All men nay Angells cannot equallize If Adam but a creature could so fall To bring all creatures of the world in thrall Sure the creating God made man might free All mankind fallen in a more full degree A second Adam thus is truly found To save the world the first in sin had drownd That as by one man all men guilty stood Even so by one man all might be made good First Adam falling dy'd be cause he fell The second standing dy'd of his good will A free will offering thus he freely gave Which by his free will had a power to save A free will offering Lord we truly say For of thy selfe thou hadst no debt to pay Untill it pleas'd thee to assigne thy Son To pay mans debt whom sin had quite undon Dear God that thou shouldst bring thy selfe in debt The greatnesse of it too should be no let Should'st binde thy selfe by promising a seed When thou before wert absolutely freed Could not the greatnesse of the debt to pay Those flames of love within thy breast alay When thou consider'st in thy deep fore-cast That it would cost thy dearest blould at last Lord what is man we still may aske of thee That for his sake thou could'st thous moved be That he which in thy bosome did remaine Should be a Lambe from the beginning slaine These secrets sure were hid from Adams eyes Had he knowne these he would have been more wise But we poore wretched we that with him fell Dp know and yet we doe again rebell We know and doe acknowledge as we read All this fulfill'd which was before decree'd That this eternall Seed thy Son is come By thee begotten in the Virgins wombe And by a way beyond our reach became Both God and Man a Lion and a Lambe We know againe thy Scriptures testifie How like a Lambe he did both live and dye How sinlesse blamelesse harmlesse and demure He did the malice of the world indure Number'd with sinners and yet free from spot Smitten of sinners yet he threatned not Led as a sheep did to the slaughter come Yet opened not his mouth but was as dumbe Where like a Lambe most innocent and free To cleare the guilty must condemned be And to regaine our freedome by his losse He by our sins was nayl'd unto the crosse Where wounded with those soul deep wounding spears Instead of a distilling floods of tears Heaven was set open and its fountaines ran With streams of bloud to wash polluted man Where like a lamb once offer'd up for all He drank not only vinegar and gall But dranke that bitter cup which doth therein The vialls of thy vengeance due for sin By drinking which he did asslwage thine ire He quench'd the flames of everlasting fire And purchas'd heaven to ●●●●●ate gaping hell And all for mankind out of meere good will Oh! worke of wonder can our hearts not shake At this whereat the very earth did quake The stones did rend graves let out men that slept The heavens above put out thelt lights and wept We read again when he thus like a lamb Had finish'd that for which he hither came How like a Lion he began to wake Or how like Sampson he the cords did breake And did assume his sacred corps again As one returnd with conquest from the slain Who like a Lion joy full of his prey He having took the sting of death away And made the grave a bed of sweet repose He rould away the mightie stone and rose And came and preach'd by his new preaching birth Deliverance unto captive men on earth Yea in the earth his rising from the grave Of all mens rising testimony gave This Lion now of Iudas Tribe as man Having fulfild his Priest here began To take his Royall Scepter in his hand As King to rule as God to Kings command But Lord his body now was glorifi'd He might no longer now on earth abide His Kingdome was not of this wotld not here His seat so raigne was in a higher spheare He must to heav'n into the throne of grace The earth is but his foot-stoole and too base And having fully all thy Law fulfil'd Made death the divell hell and sin to yeeld He did ride up triumphant in renown After his conquest to receive his Crowne Where thou hast crownd him with a crown more worth Then all the richest Diadems on earth With heaven it selfe and earth besides with all Those higher circles and this nether ball And with this scepter in his hand as fit Hast at thy right hand him in glory set Where he remains exalted and as God Doth rule the wicked with an iron rod But as he yet is God and man we read As man he yet for man doth intercede To thee his Father shewing of the scars Which he received in his hloody warres And thus he hath a Priest-hood yet on high Though not to suffer yet to sanctifie All our oblations and his saving Name The Alter where thou wilt accept the same Together with his Person where is kept The forme of man into thy bosome crept Whose sacred body
bought us He paid our ransome and doth to us cry He that beleeves in me shall never dye He trode the winepresse of that bitter grape And drank the dregs off that we might escape The Authors Epigram THe soule that sins shall dye so Scripture saith And Scripture is our evidence of faith Againe the Scripture evidence doth give That such a soule as doth beleeve shall live Is then beleeving in our Saviour dying Or is his death made our death by applying How can the Scriptures here be reconcil'd Can we both save the parent and the childs Surely Gods justice must be fully pay'd But see Gods mercy how the debt is laid Man is ingaged man is quite undone God to redeem man layes to pawne his Son But man hath sin'd can God then satisfie Yes God for man doth become man and dye Whose guiltlesse death to guilty man apply'd Is more then if that all the world had dy'd The conscience wounded with sin BUt yet I am not satisfy'd alas My soule hath sin'd how can it come to passe Anothers soule should set my soule then free What can anothers death be unto me When Scripture doth directly testifie The soule that sins that very soule shall die Besides my sins they are exceeding great Nay more I feare my sins are desp'rate I have been such an enemy to heaven That I suspect I cannot be forgiven I faine would beare up but this beats me downe This milstone sincks me oh it makes me drown Oyle and wine powred in BY the first Adam all are bound to dye What there was lost the Second doth supply In the first Adam soule and body slain But in the Second both made live again For in our whole man Christ hath fully paid What can be unto soule or body laid Can then the greatnesse of mans sinning let When God himselfe hath undertooke the debt No be the bill ingaging us most large Yet having faith we need not fear discharge For as in Adam all condemned be Even so in Christ are all by faith made free The Authors Epigram OLd Adam falling all men fell therein Because that all men were in Adam then Christ our new Adam to renue old man Within our natures a new birth began By which new birth we are new borne indeed We in this nature are new Adams seed Begotten in him as the Scripture saith In him we live we move and dwell by faith By faith indeed for without faith we dye Within this field doth all our treasure lye Through Adams sin we by descent are slaine But through new birth we live in Christ again Besides in Christ we were condemn'd and dy'd He in our whole man all our wants supply'd Nor yet is justice in this nature crost If one man saves as much as one man lost The conscience wounded with sin BUt oh my conscience is not yet at rest Sin yet doth wound me it doth yet molest What though it were so that all mankinde be By Christ from sin originall set free And so our second Adam doth rest ore What our first Adam set upon our score Alas this cannot conscience free from care I have a load of actuall sin to beare What though I once were drest in cleane attire I have return'd to wallowing in the mire My actuall sin is more then Adams curse Condemnes more strongly and torments me worse Oyle and wine powred in MIsguided conscience be informed better Our father Adam was a greater debter As he was guilty of our root of sin So of the branches that take life therein That were his score not by another paid All sin might justly to his charge be laid Even so our second Adam hath made good All whatsoever can be understood Was lost in Adam and hath charged bin Both with the root and branches of our sin And given for all sin a discharge although All sinners have not their discharge to show The Authors Epigram OH subtill serpent how could he invent One should be charg'd with all mens punishment And yet not one man thereby have redresse Alas not one mans punishment the lesse But loving Father who hast sent thy Son To undoe all this hatefull foe hath done Thy wisdome doth his subtilty exceed Making him only guilty mankinde freed Freed by the freedome that thy Son hath wrought The Price whereby he hath our freedom bought Is sure sufficient fully to acquit All sin in mankinde mankinde can commit The reason then that any man is lost Is not the want of a redeeming cost But only the redeemed are too blame Not getting their assurance of the same The conscience wounded with sin DOth Christ discharge this debt that man did owe Oh blessed Christ but on condition though Though Christ be in this obligation ty'd Yet t is but on conditions on our side It we performe not the condition then The bond is void and we are undone men What is it then to me though Christ be bound If the condition be not in me found Oh what is this condition I am fraile I feare I shall in this condition fail My conscience tells me I am still ingag'd How shall my conscience be herein aflwag'd Oyle and wine powred in BLest Christ indeed we may most truly say Thus bound for us so great a debt to pay Yet on our part so little doth require And yet that little likewise doth inspire Sure sweet condition easie to fulfill Where meanes doth furnish to discharge the bill Easie indeed what can more easie be Then to beleeve that Christ hath set us free And yet as easie as it is we find This our condition doth no harder bind Nay he that binds us in this golden chain Doth give the thing too he requires again The Authors Epigram OH blessed Saviour what couldst thou do more Who to inrich us mad'st thy selfe as poore And to requite thee whence the Milions came That did redeeme us ●ost accept a dram And yet that dram too which thou dost demand Drop'd from thy fountain falls into our hand Thou hast not only easie payment set But fillst our purses to discharge the debt Oh froward mankind shall we fooles then gr●●●● To pay so little to receive so much Shall we make forset all we have betray Because we will not a poore homage pay Faith is but as our fealtie here done To hold our right by in our Fathers Son In Christ who is our purchaser from thrall Our right our Portion Righteousnesse and all The Conscience wounded with sin OH blessed faith art thou with God so great Doth he esteeme thee at so dear a rate But wretched I then and of all too blame Who have been so respectlesse of the same That I poore earthworm never understood This heavenly jemme or how it should do good Alas I thought it but a fruitlesse grace Which idle Christians only did imbrace I could no beauty in this Rachel see But blear-eyd Lea seem'd as fair to me And therefore it is justly me injoynd If I
for faith now do meer fancie find Oyle and wine powred in THe slighting faith we must a fault confesse But if it be through ignorance the lesse God winks at times of darknesse though indeed We are not thereby absolutely free'd But when the glorious Sun-shine doth apear What can excuse us if we see not cleer No just excuse can here excusing be And yet the Sun we often clouded see So though our Sun hath chas'd our night away Yet we have cloudes still to obscure our day Our cloud of folly makes our faith retire Yet find we smoke though it do argue fire The Authors Epigram THree clouds on mankind do like mists benight And keep some blinded in the very light First ignorance then carelesnesse the third Is obstinatly to reject the word The first is most excusable of all The second binding to a harder thrall The third exceeds all and is sinfull most If not the sin against the holy Ghost Where meanes is wanting saving faith to find We must not judge there though they yet be blind For God elects and then doth faith foresee Else how could fooles and infants saved be Againe some loyter while they have the day And yet ere night do labour and have pay But such as in the vineyard being pray'd Will never labour shall be never paid The conscience wounded with sin BUt wretched I what can I doe herein How can I labour I am dead in sin Can dead men work I hear indeed the call But can but hear it cannot work at all No worke but dead works God doth such despise He doth delight a living sacrifice I doe confesse I faine would work indeed Fain would believe I fain would learn that creed But oh my sins my sins are in the way My sins doe still my confidence betray I faine would faith unto my selfe assume But sin prevents me tells me I presume Oyle and wine powred in FAith is t is true the gift of God we read God doth both worke the will and eke the deed Faith in this nature is an easie taske We can doe nothing for the same but aske The only labour now impos'd on man Is to discerne and cherish faith began Is faith Gods gift then let us beat up still He can bestow that dowry when he will Nay faith already may infused be Though scarce discerned in a small degree Then though we build not Castles in the ayre Yet we of all things are not to despair The Authors Epigram AS faith doth point at things yet unreveal'd So faith it selfe lyes in it selfe conceal'd And may be long time in the heart no doubt Before we truly finde that sewell out Besides our sins doe much obscure that light And cast a mist before our feeble sight Yea every sin when faith would else aspire Doth helpe to keep down if not quench that fire Sin is indeed faiths enemy profest And the more sin the more is faith supprest But when that faith doth once by force command Sin then doth yeeld faith gets the upper hand Faith for a time may as it were obey But in the end faith alwaies gets the day And as faith prospers by degrees gets strength So sin growes feeble pines and dyes at length Conscience wounded with sin BUt must sin dye and by degrees surcease Where faith doth live as faith doth force increase Oh wretched creature I how shall I do then I feel alas no death but life of sin Sin strives as much as ever heretofore Or rather strugles in my bosome more I doe confesse I feel my soule distrest And faine would feel fin in my soule supprest But when I labour to restrain the same It growes inraged is the worse to tame Oh sad condition oh my soule sincks here Are there no other signs of faith appear Oyle and wine powred in NO signes but such and yet soule sinck not though Sin must be kill'd but dyes not at one blow Sin in our natures will us battell give Though dying whiles we doe in nature live But sin is mostly sure most wounded when It flies on conscience most tormenteth men Are then our conscience through our sins unquiet Sin then and faith sure are in us at sight If sin within us no resistance found Sin in our conscience would delight not wound And thus by signes we secret faith may see Which without signes cannot discerned be The Authors Epigram FAith is indeed our tree of life below Which tree we only by the fruit can know Would we know then if we have faith or no The root lies hid we to the fruit must goe The fruits are feeling first sins wounding dart Next a compunction in the wounded heart From whence proceeds a diligence with speed To get a balsome for these wounds that bleed The other fruits that fruitfull faith doth beare Are ever after to be arm'd with care With zeale and wisdome to resist that foe Who at advantage had deluded so From whence proceeds a hatred unto sin Desire of vertue and delight therein All mens endeavouring that my aid supply To make faith lively and make sin to dye The Conscience wounded with sin OH blessed faith art thou the root indeed Oh would I could with blessed Job then read Thee grounded in me springs doe testifie Though through high mountains that they have supply The fountaine will be falling and the root It will be rising forth will branches shoot I feele indeed some drops of vertue flow And beare some leaves too which doe make a show But oh my conscience cannot so be quiet Such signes are frequent in the hypocrite But sin dissembled under grace is worst The tree which beares but only leaves is curst Oyle and wine powred in FAith is the fountaine whence all graces flow Faith is the root whereon those branches grow And faith gives life though it may lye as hid To all our actions or they else are dead For Christ in whom all fulnesse doth excell If we have faith by faith doth in us dwell Whether our actions though be leaves or fruit None but our conscience truly can dispute Whether the action from the heart proceeds None but the conscience that rare language reads But when the conscience hath true knowledge gain'd That then is fruit which conscience finds unfain'd The Authors Epigram MIsguided mankinde whither have we gone To set up merit in our makers Throne Faith is in Christ and Christ in faith why then Disdaine we faith adore the works of men Sin is the old man wretched and for lorne Begot in Adam in our natures borne Christ is the new Man by a second birth Through faith conceived and by grace brought forth Grace flowes from faith and faith in Christ began Both those united make but one new man And then most blest and not till then we are When in our soules we feele this infant stir Would we then prove this new man to be ours We sure must prove it by renewing powers We must be new
as is due Our seales to witnesse that thy word is true But all the praise or profit else redound From our beleeving on our heads rebound We do beleeve because it is thy will But by beleeving our desires fulfill What thou commandest ought to be fulfild But we obeying conquer whiles we yeeld Most gratious God what Lord is like to thee Whose Laws give life and whose commands make free Well my we to thy statutes have regard In keeping which there is such great reward And yet in all thy just commands injoynd This one of all we do most easie find Which is our faith yet this of all the rest Most richly crownes us and doth please thee best Dear faith how deep are thy foundations laid Most glorious things may well of thee be said Could we but in thy nature perfect prove The highest mountaines at our beck Would move Through thee we see our sines are wash'd away To thee the very powers of sin obey By thee we are made heires of things above Yea have an intrest in the God of love And mounted on the sublime wings we fly With boldnesse to the Throne of grace on high The fire and faith agree in these respects The fire hath heat and faith hath its effects Only the heat doth from the fire proceed Even so from faith do other graces breed Faith then is mother of each other grace Those not borne of her are but brats of base For till that faith doth sanctifie our hearts Our highest vertues are but morall parts Faith Lord is then thy stampe upon the coyn To make it currant and acknowledg'd thine Upon our graces wherein thou dost read The very Image of thy selfe indeed Lord melt our hearts then which are else but flint That this thy stamp may therein leave thy print And make the working luster of it bright For we can know it by no other light For as some pretious roots within the ground Can not or can be very hardly found But only when the springtime doth declare Their secret lodgings by the fruit thy beare So faith that plant implanted in our soules Growes so concealed from our sight like moules That we want knowledge to discern that root But by the branches and the fruits that sproot Faith then we must have or we must lose all A living faith too or else die we shall Faiths life appeareth by the fruit it beares It fruit appeareth being grain not tares O pretious fruit may that in us be found We have no cause then to suspect the ground Only it doth belong to us to weed And cast out all that may offend the seed Conscience wounded with sin Psalme 38. MIne iniquities are gone over mine head as an heavy Burthen too heavy for me verse 4. My wounds stinck and are corrupt because of my foolishnesse verse 5. I am troubled I am bowed downe greatly I goe mourning all the day long verse 6. For my loynes are full with a loathsome disease and there is no sound part in my flesh verse 7. I am feeble and sore broken I have roared because of the disquietnesse of my heart verse 7. Oyle and wine powred in Psalme 42. VVHy art thou so cast down oh my soule and why art thou so disquieted within me hope thou in God Psalme 103. THe Lord is mercifull and gratious slow to anger and plentious in goodnesse verse 8. He will not alwaies chide neither will he keepe his anger for ever verse 9. Like as a Father pittieth his children so the Lord pittieth them that feare him verse 13. For hee knoweth our frame he remembreth we are but dust verse 14. Desires of Aid THou good Samaritan thou God of art Good by thy readynesse God by thy skill In powring Oyle and wine into the heart That sin hath wounded oh direct my quill That in that best experience sence of feeling I may discover both to wound and healing We are the wounded Travellers indeed But thou art wounded with compassion more Our wounds do make thy wounded heart to bleed Thy blood applyd doth he ale our bleeding sore Oh pretious balme oh let it be applyd And let my hand be by thy help a guide The Conscience wounded with sin OH my mine iniquities my sin my sin Too heavy for me oh I sinck therein It doth go over as it were my head Intolerable burden no such lead My wounds are putrifi'd corrupt and stinck My foolishnesse is such my teares I drink Troubl'd and pressed with the weight I beare All the day mourning never free from care My loynes are fil'd with loathsomnesse besides There is no soundnesse in my flesh abides My conscience roares within me and the smart Torments me with the anguish of my heart Oyle and wine powred in BUt why art thou thus cast down oh my soule Why dost thou not those fearfull doubts controull Why art thou thus disquieted in my brest Oh trust in God returne unto thy rest The Lord the Lord is mercifull and kind Most slow to wrath and to forgive inclin'd Although offended doth not alwaies chide His anger doth but for a space abide Like a most tender Father to his childe So is he pitifull and much more milde For he considers where our frailty lyes And therefore bears with our infirmities The Authors Epigram COnscience oh conscience how comes this to passe Canst thou be wounded and yet arm'd in brasse Yea in a habit far more hard then steel A conscience seared hath no sense to feel But can sin wound thus hath it such a dart Yea wound thus deeply pricking at the heart Oh cruell weapon can it thus indent Through brasse through steel yea through this adamant And yet sin works not thus upon the soule That it would conscience in the act controll But rather rocks the conscience most asleep When like an aspe it makes the wound most deep Then there is nothing can do conscience good Till it be sprinkled with dissolving blood But then each motion that doth sin apply Doth wound the conscience and doth terrifie The conscience wounded with sin ALas alas the soule that sinsmust die So Scriptures tell me can the Scriptures lie No no the Scriptures never can be broken No word shall fail that is in Scripture spoken Oh then what comfort can remaine for me How scapes my soule my sinfull soule then free For I have sin'd and sin to death betraies Death is the wages that hard master payes Inviolable word of God herein Most miserable wretch that I did sin Most wretched slave that such a Master hath Most cruell wages oh eternall death Oyle and wine powred in VVHy will you dye thus doth our Father call When I delight not in your death at all Why will you dye then Oh returne and live I pardon sin and freely doe forgive My mercies please me I delight remorse But justice comes forth by constraint and force Beleeve and live this God the Son hath brought us And by his death from death eternall