his corrections returne to him as it said Tyre and Sidon would haue returned in Sackcloth and Ashes where the same word Shuba in the Syriack translation is used The second Eripe animam The third Salvum me sac which implies such a Saluation as comes by CHRIST IESVS the Originall beeing Iashag whence IESVS comes The knowledge of God is as Iob sayes of his friends to speake with reuerence a miserable consolation without wee know him to bee our Saviour the very Atheists though they would denie it the Lord will by the terrours of night moue them to confesse there is a GOD yea they shall confesse there is a God but shall not know him a Saviour It is strange how in all the Old Testament the Ancients did abhorre distast and pray against Death although they did know it was the way to their blisse and indeed if we consider death as it is life and it may be put in an equall balance as when Paul thought with himselfe how good and glorious it would bee for him to be quit of this miserable pilgrimage of Life and the glory hee should receiue by Death then fell hee to his Cupio Dissolvi and the balance weighed on Deaths side but considering the good that the Church was to receiue by his staying then otherwise So was it with them of old to whom the joyes of Heaven were but shadowed by MOSES and the rest not so openly revealed as to us But divers expound this place mystically for the death and hell of sinne For without doubt in our naturall death wee praise God better than in this dying life Yea it is said that DIVES knew ABRAHAM in Hell and had a Charitable care of his Brethren on earth c. CERTEINE MEDITATIONS By ABRAHAM HOLLAND Commended and bequeathed to his deerest Mother Mrs. ANNE HOLLAND his deere Sisters A. H. M. H. and E. A. Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart bee alwayes acceptable in thy sight O Lord my strength and my Redeemer From this houre O Lord I haue vowed to serue thee in holinesse and righteousnesse all the dayes of my life I beleeue O Lord helpe my unbeleefe MEDITAT 1. LORD let mee carefully examine my selfe what I was now am and what I may bee I was O Lord before the inspiring of thy powerfull breath into a dead piece of clay Nothing I am by the malice of Sinne in ready way to Perdition I may bee sodainly through the reward of sinne worse than Nothing I was O Lord before I was Predestinate by thy depth of wisedome either to eternall Glory or euerlasting Sorrow I am almost uncertaine poore worme as I am by the innumerable heape of mine owne sinnes and the infinite goodnesse and mercies of CHRIST which shall light on mee I may bee by a too late and false or a true and contrite repentance subiect to either I was O Lord in my Mothers wombe conceiued in the foulenesse of Sinne I am O good Lord a dayly heaper of actuall Sin upon originall Corruption What can I then expect but that I justly may be the ayme marke of thy impartiall vengeance But O Sweet Lord I was loued of thee before I was borne am daily preserued by thee though in the middest of my iniquities and am in hope that through the all-sufficient Merits and Suffering of thy blessed Sonne to bee saued after death from the power of Sinne and Hell and with him glorified eternally Let me then with shame remember what I was and blush with sorrow what I am and repent with sorrow what I may bee and tremble MEDITAT 2. LEt mee O Lord judicially both contemne and feare this thing called Death Let mee O Lord feare it as a man may being the separation of his best acquaintance the Soule and Body let mee contemne the ouglinesse of it as being a Minister to bring both soule and body to a more sweet familiaritie Let me feare it as it is the way to Hell but contemne it being the gate of Heauen Feare it as the wayes of Sinne Contemne it being the reward and pay of a long misery Let mee feare not the Arrest of it but the Exetion let me contemne it knowing CHRIST is my Common-Bayle Feare it as a Monster but Contemne it as being Naturall Let mee not see the face of it without trembling but embrace with contempt c. A Briefe Meditation MY heart is broken O Lord and my distracted thoughts wander vp and downe to finde out thy Mercy mercy I seeke O Lord judgement sitteth at thy feet just God and Mercy on thy right hand mercifull Father giue her leaue a little O God to shew her pleasing countenance unto me the most vile hainous and presumptuous of all sinners O LORD wee haue sinned and thou hast punished O Lord wee still sinne and thou still doest punish giue us Grace Good Lord that wee may sinne no more that thou mayst desist from punishing Let us die O Lord that wee may not die and so strictly by the witnesse of our Consciences judge and Condemne our selues that wee be neither seuerely judged nor justly condemned by thee who both canst and desirest if wee will truely repent shew thy Iudgement milde and thy Mercy infinite Lord as of mee haue Mercy on all and show the light of thy Countenance and we shall O Lord bee whole AMEN A Meditation against the feare of Death ON the sodaine I cannot choose but thinke them madmen or children who stand in feare of Death and yet me thinkes euen thus they are wrong-named since neither Mad men Fooles nor Children feare Death alas shall simplicitie and sencelesse Folly doe more with them than reason or Religion can doe with us Shall the Sea-tost Mariner be sorrie that from ten thousand dangers of the Sea hee is arriued at his safe and long-desired Haven Shall the sterved Prisoner repine if after many yeares wofull Captiuitie hee be at last set at wished Libertie Shall the tormented Sick-man grudge if from a long and languishing Disease a speedy medicine restore him to his former perfect health Is not our Life a sea of troubles A lothsome dungeon A lingring sicknesse Is not Death the skilfull Pilot that guides us to Heaven Is not hee the good Iudge that sets us at libertie The skilfull Physician that cures our Mortalitie and restores us to Eternall life What doe we else by desiring long life but like the ingratefull Israelites desire to Continue at their former Flesh-pots in making Brick and Clay under hard taskmasters in the Egipt of this sinfull world and so keepe from the Canaan of neuer-decaying happinesse Is it not madnesse in desiring Long life to refuse Eternall life Shall wee be such cowards to feare a shadow the seperation of the Soule from God onely indeed is Death the seperation of the Soule from the Body is but the shadow of Death Shall we bee such fooles to seeke to shun that which neuer man could scape Shall we
for 't Thus in many places The worthiest mens rewards haue bin disgraces Thus Athens wont her best deseruers use Thus Rome her noble Statesmen to abuse With death or banishment thus still wee trie Contempt ensues familiaritie Yea Prophets as our Sauiours selfe did deeme In their owne Countries still haue small esteeme Well whatsoe're this Towne doe thinke you let It thus bee Knowne All England's in your debt Yet are there some I dare avouch it good Ingenuous mindes who hauing understood Your worth and merits loue your very name Though farre remote yea and admire the same I doubt not yet deare Father e're you die By timely Fate to see you rais'd as high As your well-weigh'd ambition aimes at which Is to bee sweetly well content not rich T' enioy your friends and children and they you To spend your fading old yeares residue In sweet tranquillitie and liue with such As will respect and honour you as much As here they slight you and the time from hence Shall all your past misfortunes recompence All comforts fit for age shall you be giuen Your onely care to make your path for Heauen And if my selfe a Poet may presage You shall haue yet an old new Golden age God will not end your aged dayes so long As you may still helpe and doe good among His people here But as a Captaine when He meanes to exercise his faithfull'st men He puts them upon dangers makes them trie Disasters hardnesse and all miserie That when at last the foe shall be repair'd They bee not found unskill'd and unprepar'd Sicknesse is but a mustring show wherein Wee learne to fight to skirmish and to win At the last combat Death in that tide Happy is hee that oftest Sicknesse tride Such as did all-wayes in full health remaine Are oft poore wretches lamentably slaine As untri'd Souldiers Though once Fate by God Shall of your fraile make a period To his Friends in the Time of his Sicknesse A resolution against Death FRiends if it bee my lot as some men vse To pay their debt sooner than you would chuse To harsh exacting Fate I would not haue You stand lamenting o're my youthfull Graue As if it were my Prison and I throwne There on a desperate Execution I know there 's no release from 't yet more free Know I this prison than your libertie I would not haue you raile at it and say That it from you had closely stolne away And treacherously betray'd your Friend alas They erre who thinke they into th' graue doe passe As to a Punishment and therefore call It the sad Vrne the Place of Buriall The house of Lamentation Lifes Thiefe The Den of Sorrow and the Cell of Griefe You wrong it by these Names It is my Bed Where Lifes Day spent I lay my wearied And o'retoyl'd Body in a long deepe Night Till hee that giues all Day renew my Light It is my sleeping chayre my chayre of State Wherein I sit equall with conquering Fate And out-face Death daring him if hee can To challenge more than I haue payd of Man Make him my Sinnes-bill cancell and agree That Christs crosse o're it my acquittance bee As a poore Traueller whom the conceite Of a long tedious Iourney thitst and heate And wearinesse tormenteth by the Way Longing for home all he can doe doth Pray For some Refreshment at the last espies The joyfull smoake of his owne Countrey rise To bid him welcome then with Pleasures Teares Hee casts away both Languishment and Feares And smiling takes the next Banke hee doth see So pleasing is my Graue so sweet to mee This piece of Ground which you in scorne perchance Miscall my Graue is my Inheritance That 't is intayl'd on me the Law averres By due succession from my Grandfathers Mine it hath bin by right since Adam curst Man with this Blessing and possess'd it first While I haue Life heere I am but Lifes Ward And by my Nonage from my right debarr'd Death giues me that 's so long kept from my Hand I 'me now at Age and come unto my Land Nor thinke my Purchase too soone gayn'd but call My eight and twentie Climactericall My Graue's my long-sought Inne to which at most It can be said that I haue ridden Post Whither retyred some perhaps will feare The sawcie Wormes will bee intruders there To feed upon me whilest my Faith protests It is not so they bee my bidden Guests What Man is hee that hauing in the Time Of life committed some foule haynous crime And knowing that the Fame of it 's inroll'd In characters of Brasse yea were 't of Gold That would not praise the hand and friendly call Which scratches out the sad Memoriall Wherein doth liue his Infamie what soule That knowes this fleshly Table doth inroll The Memory of our Faults that would not call Wormes and the Graue Redressers of our Fall The one of which doth hide the other devoures All that was guiltie shamefull bad of ours Our Graue's the veyle which shadowes from the eyes Of Posthume Malice our Iniquities This wretched thing you mourne for and behold The dreary Linnen and the Earth to fold This thing compact of sinewes Bone and Blood The Receptacle both of Sinne and Food Death's ready Executioners This This is not Holland but 's Effigies Which when 't was best and by the Soule could moue Was but a liuely shape of God aboue And onely bless'd in that but now alas That chiefe Ingredient of the curious Masse That gaue it Actiue Life is ta'ne away And Nothing left but ruine and Decay A thing so despicable base and vile That lest it should surviving Men defile Wee Prison'â— first in Linnen then in Wood Then ramme it deepe in Earth and to make Good The rest lest it againe approach the Day Make marble Bulwarkes o're the wretched clay Egyptians hence did their dead Kings embowre In tombes as bigge as their blaspheming Towre Raising in weaker mindes sometimes a doubt How they at th'Resurrection will get out Of these strong Prisons whose unweldy Frames Seeme rather to oppresse than raise their Names Doubtless this wretched thing call'd Man whose curse Light upon all things is than all things worse When once his soule is gone The silly Flower Though dead and wither'd yet retaines some Power Availeable in Physicke Cattell when Th' are dead themselues nourish the liues of Men And dead Grasse theirs And Corne is neuer good Vntill it bee cut downe and us'd for food No tree so rude no shrub so base no beast So vile but dead serues for some use at least For ornament wee loue to see by skill A curious limb'd Picture and stand still To gaze upon it yea wee can endure To see Deaths shaddow and grim Portraicture Though ne're so ugly when against a wall Set a dead man indeed amongst us all You scarcely shall finde one that will not flie As at a Monster or grim Prodigie Doe you then grieue to see this Bugbeare toy This
bee so faint-hearted to feare a thing so common and certaine Was euer poore Labourer sorie after his painefull dayes worke to repose himselfe in sleepe Shall wee then ouerlaboured by a toilesome life grudge to goe to our sweet long and Care-ending sleepe Shall wee desire still to bee in our Nonage and not like heires of Eternity receiue our euerlasting Inheritance Our life is a Banishment from the heauenly Ierusalem shall wee bee grieued by Death to returne from Exile Why feare wee Death which is but the Funerall of our Vices the resurrection of our Graces and the day wherein God payes us our wages Life is neuer sweet to them that feare Death neither can he feare any Enemy that feares not death Did some of the Heathen but reading an uncertaine Discourse of Life hereafter seeke their owne Death to come unto it and shall wee certaine that there is a Life hereafter full of unspeakeable felicitie bee affraid of the way which GOD hath ordained as a passage to it Death is our yeare of Iubile and shall wee not reioyce in it Let euery one then O Lord who desires to bee free'd from sinning and offending thee cry out with PAVL I desire to bee dissolved and to bee with CHRIST A PRAYER Made and vsed with Companie in the aforesaid Visitation O Eternall GOD to whom by Creation wee owe our Beeing from nothing by Sanctification of thy holy Spirit a better beeing from worse than nothing by Redemption and Adoption a joynt Inheritance and Brother-hood with the King of Glory IESVS CHRIST by whom wee are bold to call thee Father neither art thou ashamed to acknowledge us Sonnes For all thy benefits O Lord wee giue thee most humble thankes in that it hath pleased thee to preserue us to this time from the dangers of Hell and Death but especially O good Lord that thou hast giuen us a sence and feeling of our owne sinnes and misery so that wee may call for Mercy before wee goe into the Graue and bee seene no more Wee most humbly and upon the Knees of our soules doe thanke thee O Lord that in this thy great Visitation this great Assizes of thine this fearefull Plague wherein the Graue hath swallowed up so many thousands that it hath pleased thee to command thy raging Minister the Destroying Angell but gently to touch us with an Arrow that was not pointed with Death as if hee had sayd to us Goe away Sinne no more lest a worse thing fall upon you Wee confesse O Lord that our sinnes deserued equally yea more than theirs whom thou hast taken away and yet O Lord wee still remaine to praise thy Name in the land of the Living Which if thou doest continue O Lord thou hast ingaged us to a sodaine and speedy newnesse of life with true Contrition for our former most haynous sinnes and a living in Holinesse and Righteousnesse all the dayes of our life But if so bee this bee but a gleame of thy mercy to trie our Faith and Constancy and that thou hast ordained at this time to make an end of our liues most wretched Pilgrimage thy will bee done O Lord. But ô speake Peace unto our Soules that they need not tremble at this great Seperation O Lord wee know Death is but a shadow and the feare of it more terrible than it selfe Let neither the ouglinesse of it nor of our sinnes distract our mindes when they haue most need to bee busie in obtaining thy grant of a better life Blot out all our offences O Lord and the manifold sinnes of our youths make them O Lord though they bee red as Scarlet yet as White as the wooll of thy immaculate Lambe CHRIST IESVS Wash them O Lord in his Blood and by his wounds let us bee healed from the stinking sores and ulcers of putrified and festred Sinne So that O Lord we may smile at Death and embrace the very terrour of it Repell O Lord the Divell and all his ministers who in these times of affliction are most ready to lay before our weake soules a large Catalogue and bill of our most haynous offences telling us that thou art a just GOD and wilt not heare the prayers of such great offenders but O Lord there is Mercy with thee that thou mayest bee feared yea that thou mayest bee loued Grant O Lord that though wee be euen swallowed vp of death and desperation yet wee may lay hold upon the precious Merits of thy deare Sonne and our loving Saviour so that either in life or death wee may crie with a true Faith and Comfort Come Lord IESVS come quickly To whom with thee the Father and the Holy Ghost bee all honour and glory now and ever AMEN A Vale to his best Part. DId not Religion controll I would say Farewell my Soule But so much as may depart Farewell I say my soule and heart Since from thee I 'me forc'd to flie I 'le enter no meane Heresie But will thinke it may agree A Body without Soule that 's thee Thou hast my soule and so behau'd I am in hope it may bee sau'd My heart 's in thee or mee or both And yet if seperate I am loth Thou hast not all know for thy part I am a niggard of my heart Farewell I say and though 't is paine To say this word Farewell againe Farewell yea so that thou may'st liue A thousand Vales I will giue That this Vale true appeare Take a Farewell and a Teare From thy A. H. Abraham Holland Hauing made many EPITAPHS for others made this Epitaph for himselfe and on his Death bed dictated it to his Brother H. H. PAssenger that wilt bestow So much time to read this know Here 's one a lasting sleepe doth take Till Christs Trumpet bid him wake This is that Gole whereto the man That lyeth here interred ran This the Race-end to which at most Jt can be said that hee rode Post. Let Him sleepe quiet and doe Thou Leaue Sinne not by and by but now Delay not houres which swiftly glide As a full Torrent or quicke Tide Knowing thus much good Christiā passe But with this Thought I am He was Denatus 18. Februarij 1625. Vnto these Post-humes is added NAVMACHJA OR A POETICALL DESCRIPTION OF the cruell and bloudie Sea-fight or Battaile of LEPANTO Most memorable BY ABRAHAM HOLLAND Revised by the Author and now againe Published Printed for HEN HOLLAND M.DC.XXVI TO THE READER that asketh what when and where was this Battaile of LEPANTO IN the yeare of CHRIST IESVS 1571. His open Arch-Enemie the Great Turke having had many Victories by Land in sundry Nations as well in subduing whole Countries as in taking many strong Cities and Castles from the Christians which confined neere his Territories enforcing the Christians either to renounce their holy Faith or to endure unspeakeable Slavery themselues their Wiues and Children beeing daily bought and solde in open Markets like Horses Oxen and Asses The Turke by this time had Conquered many
ascend When streames of sulphur through our veins do glide And scarce the sense of sorrow doth abide This time how miserable may we guesse Where want of sense is chiefest happinesse When the distracted Soule can scarce devise How to supply the weakest Faculties Of the disturbed Bodie but presents Vnto the Eye strange objects strange portents And antique shadowes when the feverish rage Sets us on Iourneyes oft and Pilgrimage And entertaines our wild and wandering sight With monstrous Land-schips able to affright A man in 's wits when the deceived Eares Doe apprehend what ere the Fancie feares The grones of Ghosts and whispering of Sprites The silken tread of Faeries in the Nights The language of an ayrie Picture howles Of funerall Dogs and warnings of sad Owles The Tast distasteth all things and the same Is sweet and bitter when the inward flame Furres the swolne Tongue the quick Feeling marr'd Knoweth no difference betweene soft and hard Such a confused Error doth distract The labouring Senses so is the Fancie rackt By the dire sicknesse when from place to place The Bodie rolleth and would faine embrace Some Icie cooler but alas the heat Asswaging there ensues a Marble sweat 'Twixt Death and Nature wrestling then appeare Those deadly Characters which th'Ensigne beare Before approching Fate which notice give None spotlesse die how ever they did live A sicknesse comfortlesse when we do feare To see those friends whom we do love most deare The Ministers Devotion here doth stick By leaving Visitation of the sick Making the Service-Booke imperfect when We see a crossed Doore as 't were a Den Of Serpents or a Prodigie we shun The poore distressed Habitation The Death as comfortlesse where not appeares One friend to shed some tender funerall teares Black Night 's the onely Mourner No sad Verse Nor solemne flowers do deck the drearie Herse Some few old folke perhaps for many a yeere Who have forgot to weepe attend the Beere Such whose drie age hath made most fit to keepe Th' infected without feare but not to weepe Whose kin to death made them not feare to die Whose deafenesse made them then fit companie Vnto the sick when they were speechlesse growne A miserable Consolation But had you look'd about you might have seene Death in each corner and the secret teene Of angrie Destinie No sport dispells The mists of sorrow a sad silence dwells In all the streets and a pale terror seizes Vpon their faces who had no Diseases So usuall 't was before the Morne to die That when at Night two friends left companie They would not say Good Night but thus alone God send 's a ioyfull Resurrection If two or three dayes interpos'd betweene One friend by chance another friend had seene It was as strange and joyfull as to some When a deare friend doth from the Indies come Throgh the nak'd town of death there was such plenty One Bell at once was faine to ring for twenty No Clocks were heard to strike upon their Bells Cause nothing rung but death-lamenting Knells Strange that the Houres should faile to tell the Day When Time to thousands ran so fast away Time was confus'd and kept at such a plight The Day to thousands now was made a Night Hundreds that never saw before but di'de At one same time in one same Grave abide That our weake Fancies if we did not hold It Profanation here to be too bold Might wonder what being strangers they would say To one another at the Iudgement Day Some by their feare to go to Church debarr'd Anon are carryed dead unto the Yard The Church-yards gron'd with too much death opprest And the Earth rests not ' cause so many rest And Churches now with too much buriall fed Fear'd they should haue no meetings but of Dead Death fell on death and men began to feare That men would want to carry forth the Bere The Bearers Keepers Sextons that remaine Surpasse in number all the towne againe Friends here kill'd friends womb-fellowes Kill their Brothers Fathers their Sons and Daughters kill their Mothers By one another strange so many di'de And yet no murder here no Homicide A Mother great with Child by the Plagues might Infects to Death her Child not borne to light So killing that which yet ne're liu'd the wombe Of th'aliue Mother to th'dead Child was tombe Where in the fleshy graue the still Babe lying Doth kill his Mother by his owne first dying Her trauaile here on Earth she could not tend But finishes in heauen her Iournies end To others frolicke set vnto their meales Secure of death slie Death vpon them steales And strikes among 'em so that thence in speed With heauy Cheere th' are borne the wormes to feed To some at worke to others at their play To thousands death makes a long Holy-day Death all conditions equally inuades Nor riches power nor beautie here perswades Old dye with young with women men the rage Of the dire Plague spares neither sex nor age Most powerfull Influence of ruling Starres Which with blind darts Kill more than bloody Wars Resistlesse Famine greedy Time or when The threatfull hand of Tyrants striketh men Into pale terrour more than all diseases Ah happy hee who heauen least displeases FINIS HOLLAND his Hornet To sting a Varlet OR A few Satyricall lashes for one that did falsly accuse him to the late Lord Keeper of a Libell against IOHN OVVENS Monument in Pauls By ABRAHAM HOLLAND Against one that impos'd a Libell on me to the late Lord KEEPER WHosoe're thou wast that thus Mistaken or Malicious The last I doe imagine that Didst Father on mee this vile Brat A stinking Libell goe and bee Scorn'd of all as much as mee May I know thy Name in Time Libell'd in some Ballad-Rime May I heare thee 'bout the Street Begging Offall for the Fleet May'st thou cry in tuned Prose Cornes haue you on your Feet or Toes Or Rats to catch and in the end Veniee-Glasses haue you to mend May Iustice make thee so to lacke To offer Lines to all in Blacke And succeed if Vengeance linger At last the one-Legg'd Ballad-Singer Foule ill thy judgement couldst thou find None whom thou couldst thinke inclin'd To Libelling but me no one That made lewd Verse but me alone No itching Scriuener that doth make Verses by an Almanacke No lazie leaden-witted Asse Professing Poetrie alas No Latin'd Merchant whose fine clothes Scorne that hee should write in Prose No parcell-Gentleman that vowes Hee can still the Latine towze No busie Lawyers Clerke that still Will vsurpe Poeticke skill No pretie Toy no learned Foole Nor clownish Vsher of a Schoole Couldst thou find none but must disperse Mee the Author of that Verse So basely libellous and durst Me of all men picke out first To bee thy Toung-Ball or didst rather Thy owne bastard on mee Father A Palsey take my Muse if I Knew how to make a quicke reply To them who did this Fame disclose Whether it were Verse
scarre-crow layd aside to shun th'annoy Of the beholders or for my Soule is it That you doe mourne which now doe throned sit Surfetting with pure Ioyes and holy mirth And smiles at that for which you weepe on earth That 't is dislodg'd from that debauched Inne Which helpt it ne're in ought but onely sinne I would haue giuen you leaue to mourne if then I had by suddaine Death bin summon'd when Wretch'd man I labour'd to the height of sin And bolder grew the deeper I grew in When Vice was turn'd to custome and each deed Though ne're so impious did perswade with speed Another worse as if Despaire had bin The beastly Pander to unbrideled sin But Heau'n be bless'd Heau'n better lou'd my soule Than without stay to let it headlong roll To everlasting Death and so did Kill The Body sooner to retayne that still The Soule as hee inspir'd it pure nor at all Conscious of sinne no not Originall Thinke you I feare those things which you doe call By such blacke names The Griefly Funerall The Fatall beere sad Flowers and dreary Hearse The mournefull Followers and the weeping Verse Thinke you already I doe not disdaine The mightie tapers and the sable traine Or e're I doe expire thinke you my soule Will be so cowardly to feare the toll Of a sad bell whose heauy language goes Deadly as if it did intend to close It's voyce with mine Thinke you I doe not spie The dolefull silence of the standers by As if they all were speechlesse and from me Did draw one generall stupid sympathy Me thinkes I heare the silly Women say Hee is whole chested and will goe away By dying upward and some other trie If that my legges be cold and straight doe lye Here 's one doth Iudge my feeble Pulse and cryes ' Cause shee must bee the Friend to close mine eyes Another maketh Triall of my Breath Thus doe I heare 'em furnish me for Death But ó let me not heare them let my sprite Bee busie then in purchasing a light More sweet then Life it selfe may wholly I Bee fix'd in thoughts of Immortalitie Let me then an audacious Client stand Pressing to Kisse my unseene Sauiours hand And let me bee so busie in my Prayers That not the Feare of Death nor ougly cares Throng'd in the memory may disturbe the Soule Which now is neere to Heav'n her capitoll In the last Triumph after Conquest wonne O're Death and Hell and grim Perdition T is a toy to thinke when life is past That Fate did lagge or else made too much hast When wee die quickly or by tedious Age Fulfill the circuit of Lifes Pilgrimage In my opinion a Day-ag'd Child Hath when it dyes a race as well fulfill'd As Clymacterick Old men I confesse Not with so many out-rodes yet no lesse Exactly Nature doth averre the same And a day Rose aswell an Age may claime As the long liued Oake Though Time devoure The one so slowly th' other in an Houre If'cause I dye before you you repine I 'le thinke you enuy at this blisse of mine And wish't your owne there 's nought but sinne in me That could deserue long life and miserie Which Sinne the God of Mercy quell'd and check't The cause and after tooke away th' effect Long life or if because I dye so soone And come into mine Evening at the Noone And full Meridian of mine age you erre And doe not know what blisse the Fates conferre On mee hereby by which I shall obtayne As I now dye to rise at last againe In fresher youth The Marriner behold To gather up a little Pelfe and Gold Contemned Death If hee doe chance to finde A nearer Cut to China or to Inde Reioyceth and shall wee who through this vale And gulfe of miserie in Life doe sayle Grudge if the Fates doe show a nearer Haven Our Purchase being no Gold nor Pelfe but Heaven FINIS A LETTER Savouring of Mortification written and sent in the time of the late Visitation of the Plague to his deere Brother H. H. in LONDON DEare Brother I am sorry your other occasions would not permit mee to enjoy your company longer at my last being at London especially in this time of sorrow when the dearest friends are not able to say to day wee will meet to morrow which me thinkes cannot choose but put euery man in minde how carefull hee ought to bee that though in our Kinred and Friendship wee be separated on Earth wee may by true repentance and relinquishing our sinnes gaine that blisse that at the reunion againe of soule and body in that happy communion of Saints we may meet againe with joy Our small Village here as an out-member of your great Citie suffers proportionably with it the heauy stroke of Gods wrath insomuch that whole Families of the most curious preventers haue beene wofully swept away especially a Gentleman lest to keepe the Countesse of Nottinghams * This house is called the Kings Nurcerie House who with his Wife a beautifull Gentlewoman and foure most sweet and louely Children and their Man are all gone I hope to blisse and their Mayd that is onely left lying at the mercy of God Wretch that I am why delay I one minute to cast my selfe prostrate at the feet of Mercy and prepare my selfe for the like passage Within these few dayes most of this house in the judgement of men were likely to out-liue mee whose wilde and looser youth threatens a too timely old-age They liu'd in a beautious House a refined and pure Ayre wanted neither Antidote nor assisting Physicke and yet alas they now are not they are dust and ashes and the food of Wormes O! the depth of the wisedome of our great GOD hee saw that it was good for them to dye to gaine a better life and for us that by their deaths wee may learne and prepare our selues to dye Ah Brother thinke not this is a time Rhetorically to set forth a sorrow or passion thinke not but my heart speakes what I write I know the reward of Sinne I know the value of a Soule thinke not but while it is in my power by the merits of CHRIST I will haue a care and prouidence for the price of my Saviours blood my Soule Deare Brother I doubt not but you are so well prepared and armed against this Visitation of God that my weake devotion is either needlesse or unable to assist you Yet I desire you not any way to deject your selfe onely in the humiliation for sinne in this great Assizes of Almighty God where we all are brought to our Trials For my selfe I thanke the comforting Spirit of God I haue not beene these many yeares in so great securitie as I am in this time of imminent danger When euery minute telling me I must die and that God knowes how soone I now and but now begin to liue alas the time that I spent before was but death and I liu'd but in a dreame A
armes and legs And thinking then to throw him in the tide Hee 's caught vpon an Anchor on the side That one beholding rightly might haue sed He iustly was hang'd drawne and quartered Some fearing swords into the sea doe flie And so for feare of death feare not to die Some fall into the Ocean stain'd with gore Which from their former wounds had gusht before Which kill'd not them as it from them was spil'd But entring into them againe th' are kil'd Heere 's one about to strike his foe doth fall Into the sea before he can recall His erring stroke striking the sea to stay him The Ocean in revenge o' th blow doth slay him One fearing death doth faine to die and bleed And while he is in faining dies indeed Another being about to strike his foe Looseth at once his arme and threatning blow His left arme shiuering reaches at the other But cut atwaine lies with it's equall Brother Both ioyn'd though both devided as in spight Of Death they meant to part their last good-night By shaking hands the miserable truncke As loth to part fainting vpon them sunke One seeing them together thus might say There a whole bodie all in peeces lay See two with sturdy grapple striuing whether Should overcome both fall in sea together Embracing both till they haue lost their breath And seeme though foes in life yet friends in death Two brothers slaine as they together stood One then might sweare they were allied in blood Other two who so nigh resembling were A lov'd mistake vnto the parents deare Cruell death sever'd them and that one left Poore parents knew of errour now bereft He left eternall cause of griefe renowes Who still aliue still his dead brother shew's And yet to them this comfort still he giues Th' one cannot die so long as th' other liues The wounded souldiers now that all else failes To stop their wounds doe teare their woful sailes Poore men who after they were overthrowne Had torne those wings wherby they might haue flown One with his bleeding ready to expire Thinks with his blood to quench the ship on fire And so in mids of flames he bleeding stands Tearing new wounds with his kind cruell hands And grieu'd to see his blood so little profit He oft adds teares to helpe the quenching of it Till at last fainting he is faine to fall Into the sea which made his Funerall And bleeding in it from each mangled lim He quenched it and it extinguish't him See a poore wretch with both armes cut asunder Distracted leapt into the water vnder Meaning to swim but see the wofull wretch With how much toile he laboureth to stretch His raw-veind stumps which for his armes before Gush nothing now but streames of deadly gore Faine would he catch t'vphold his wavering life Some kind remaine o' th ship but all his strife Doth make him sooner to be out of breath And wanting armes he yet embraces death One getteth this by hauing lost his eies In that he cannot see his miseries Anothers legges are gone that who him sees Might thinke he did begge pardon on his knees What refuge now is left when if they shun Th' approaching sword into the fire they run Shunning the fire they into waterfall So no way wants a certaine Funerall Thus after strange vnheard of sort they lie And death by many deaths makes one man die The mangled ships no longer can with stand Th'intruding sea and Mars his fiery brand But sinking downward one might then haue thought Them gone t' helpe Charon to waft ore his fraught The conquer'd fleet prickt now with desperate stings Of horror wish their army did of wings Onely consist but now as if it stood Tyed with fast anchors to the stubborne flood Mooues not away but void of all instruction Venter their owne to hasten the destruction Of their once Maisters who into corners creepe As among Wolues a flocke of trembling sheepe Much like a silly Doue whose broken wing Hath tried the Talons of the aiery King And lieth panting on the bloody ground Striving to flie from 's enemies rebound Alas poore bird it wants that winged oare Which should it's wonted scape to it restore And so at length with silent patience crouching It 's made a prey to the fierce bird encroching Thus fleet and bird lie i' th same wofull plight Whose onely wish is to be put to flight The Sunne no longer could endure to see ' Mongst humane men such inhumanity Therefore his Horses bathing in their fome With posting speed hast to their watrie home Where yet a while they all amazed stood Finding in stead of Sea a Sea of Blood FINIS H. H. Authoris Fratis majoris cujus cura ac impensa haec praemissa Posthuma edita sunt CHARACTER SI quis praenomen cupiat cognoscere nostrum HENRICI nomen Nympha Secrata dedit Jnque tuo MICHAEL festo sum natus ortus Septemb. 1583 Christiadis sumpsi nomen in Aede tua Jlla luce mihi dilâ—â—ta adjungitur Vxor Septemb. 1615 Cognovi socium nocte priore thorum Hiâ— MICHAEL Magnus Princeps pessundabit omnes Papicolas istis Tartâ—ra tetra patent Dei Pater Omnipotens famulo mihi posse beatum Sortiri in Coelo cum MICHAELE Locum Aliud CHARACTER ACROSTICON vice EPITAPHIj Hic mihi ne totum delerent Funera Nomen Ostendam vitae rem Loâ—a Nomen Avos Laude vigent patres vidâ—t COVENTRIA natum Luce novâ HENRICVM nomine signat aqua A patriae grâ—mio LONDINVM excâ—pit adultum Anno 1599. N â—â—rit idem Câ—ara cum Pare Liber ago Diviâ—icoâ— est verbum Mihi Roma perosa Vita quidem tenâ—is sit mihi grata tamen Solaque post Mortem Coelestia dona supersins Mihi Roma perosa FINIS Page 80. l. 4. a Plus male facta nocent quam benedicta decent praedicat viva voce qui praedicat vita voce Ib. p. l. 30. b Nemesis pedes habet Lips de Constant tarditatem judicii gravitate supplicii compenset Page 81. l. 12. a Ecles 7.18 Qui dicunt ne appropinqâ—es mihi quia immundus es Es 65.5 Ib. p. l. 23. b Va vobis derisoribus cum venerit dies judicii aperti fuerint libri conscientiarum Cum dicetur vobis ecce hos puritatis derisores impura eorum opera Quid facietis tunc cum Caeli re ve labunt iniquitates vestras terra adversus vos consurget Ib. p. l. 29. c Dicunt non faciunt hoc magnum Crimen habetur In linguis pietas pectore nulla manet Page 82. l. 9. a Mallet Deus multos nocentes condonare quam unum innocentem condemnare Ib. p. l. 19. b Vnguentum est unguentum itsi vultures defugiant Theod. Page 84. l. 3. a Quam bent te ambitio mersit vanissima ventus tumidos tumidae vos superastis aquae Quam bene totius raptores orbis avaros Hausit inexhausto justa vorago maris Theod. Beâ—a in Psal 27.2.124.3.6 Psal 21.11 Page 85. l. 14. a Job 4.8 Psal 27.2 Non est laâ— aequior ulla Quam necis artifices arte perire suâ Ib. page 17. b Anno 1602. in Londino de plaga 38244. Consumptis tot peste viris tot peste puellis vix habuit nobis tum nova plaga locum Ibid. page l. 21. Antigones rex amicis sun dentibus ut si Athenas caperet firmis eas validis muniret praesidiis Nullum inquit scio praesidium firmius aut stabilius quam civium benevolentiam Sic Periander summâ ope commitendum esse dixit iis qui into regnare vellent ut benevolentia potius quam armis stiparentur 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Sola benevolentia subditorum firmisissima est regis custodia Synesius Errata IN the Eipistle to all the afflicted page â— line 5. for of read and. Ib. p. l. 11. Maccheus 2. p. Of the Subject l. 25. leave out still p. 3. l. 29. steams p. 4. l. 7. this p. 33. l. 5. him p. 69 l. 25. trash p. 79. l. 29. if FINIS
sorrow and our sin Which tooke him hence for had he stay'd till then When there should be no memorie left of men H 'had bin a Choice of heaven and surpass't The Annalls and the Chronicles which vast Vncertaine times have made doe not surmize That I herein am set t'Hyperbolize A strict Historian of the time that say's Lesse shall be held Detractour of his Praise Yea future judgements when they shall compare Him with the rest shall call those writers spare Who made him not a Patterne as the blinde Old HOMER did ACHILLES of his Kinde Alas 't was nothing in the ancient time For Noble men to raise their names and clime By hauty acts unto the top of Fame When as obeysance to their Prince did claime And their owne Interests that they should show Not more what they adventur'd than did owe When each day almost new invasions when Civill disturbance did compell the men To a forc'd valour In those times to have A TALBOT ESSEX or a DRAKE did save The Countrie but from damage but that now When the now-Sainted IAMES had made a VOW To blesse himselfe and us by making Peace That not all Spirit and all MARS should cease But such a flame from those still ashes rise Did saue the Land from guilt of Cowardize Since OXFORD was a Youth BELLONA ne're Breath'd her allarmes in this our Hemisphere But he pursu'd them with a Noble fire To fame his Countrie and his owne desire Grounded on that Great Venice and the Fates Though lucklesse of Bohemia with the States Now fatall to him and th'attempted Seas Shall be his true though Posthumes witnesses He sought no new-made Honours in the Tide Of favour but was borne the same he di'de Nor came he to the Elysium with shame That the old VERES did blush to heare his Name Brighter than theirs where his deserts to grace His Grand-fathers rose up and gave him place And set him with the Heroës where the Quire Of ayrie Worthies rise up and admire The stately Shade those Brittish Ghosts which long Agoe were number'd in th' Elysian throng Ioy to behold him SYDNEY threw his Bayes On OXFORDS head and daign'd to sing his praise While Fame with silver Trumpet did keepe time With his high Voice and answered his rime The soft inticements of the Court the smiles Of Glorious Princes the bewitching wiles Of softer Ladies and the Golden State That in such places doth on Greatnesse waite And all the shadie happinesse which seemes To attend Kings and follow Diadems Were Boy-games to his minde to see a Maske And sit it out he held a greater taske Than to endure a Siege to wake all Night In his cold armour still expecting fight And the drad On-set the sad face of feare And the pale silence of an Army were His best Delights among the common rout Of his rough Souldiers to sit hardnesse out Were his most pleasing Delicates to him A Batter'd Helmet was a Diadem And wounds his Brauerie Knowing that Fame And faire Eternitie could neuer claime Their Meeds without such Hazards but alas That wee must say such a Man OXFORD was A Hatefull Syllable which doth implie Valour can be extinct and Vertue die O wer 't not Profanation I now Could turne a stiffe Pythagorist and allow A reall Metempsychosis if so The Soule of OXFORD might divided flow On much Nobilitie and yet my sect Should honour finde from hence they no Defect This was the yeare of Iubile in Rome No meruaile 't was of griefe with us at home England hath bin Romes Sacrifice the whiles Our Teares and Funerals haue bred their Smiles A company of sacred Soules before Him left Mortalitie as if the skore Of Fate were quickly to be payd but when He left us wretches to continue men While hee himselfe did to a Crowne attaine The whole Quire seem'd in him to die againe As if h' had bin th' Epitome and Briefe Of all their Vertues and of all our griefe But Fate did act this last and greatest theft To see if wee had any Sorrow left As if those loued Soules which went before Had spent our teares and left our Eyes no more Alas now pities us and bids us sleepe Seeing when Eyes are done our hearts can weepe Two Epitaphs vpon the same Noble Earle EPITAPH 1. PAssenger that needs wilt know Who lyeth here First let mee craue That thou thy Pietie to show Let fall a teare Vpon the Graue 'T is Oxford whom when thou shalt finde Entoomb'd below Who late did liue Thou thy selfe shalt call vnkinde To haue bin so Jnquisitiue EPITAPH 2. TO say that OXFORD here or there Doth lye confines a place To his vnbounded Fame That Body which you balme and seare That Image you doe grace Js but his Shade his Name What place of Heauen hath his Soule And his diviner parts To mortals is vnknowne This wee may say without controll Jn all true English hearts His Toombe is made though they bee made of Stone FINIS A L'envoy to my endeared Friends Mr. R.T. Mr. W.H. Mr. T.C. and others being in the Countrey Seruing for an Introduction to the Description of the Plague DOe you not wonder that in this sad time I still haue leysure to compose a rime When as a Christian care forbids me now The helpe of Poetrie that my hot brow Should sweate with actiue Wine or that my heart Should be so free from passion to vse Art Vnto my wilde expressions The mirth That entertaines a Muse and giues a Birth To happy lines is farre more fit for you Who in your Countries happinesse doe view Our slaughters from a farre as men in sight That stand remote spectators of a Fight Yet I would haue both you and all suppose Sorrow can speake as well in verse as prose In this great Yeare of Elegies indeed Not with that life that flame and actiue speed As when Securitie did bid me play With the smooth tresses of Asteria And wander in her eyes alas that theame Is quell'd in griefe and drowned in the Streame Of the times sorrow those Heroïck layes That were begun haue throwne away their bayes And cloth'd themselues in Cypresse and my brow Expects a Night-cap more than Lawrell now Sirs you perhaps are chasing o're the Fields The Hare the Deere or what the season yeelds Doe Imp your Falcons wings making it flie A suttle ambusher about the Skie We are the Prey of Death and each night stay The call of Fate untill the Morning say We may draw forth a Noone and so at Night Lie downe againe not sure of other light Till the great Resurrection for may bee Death hath his Writ this Night to serue on mee Doe you inquire whether wee be affraid Of Death or no which so soone doth inuade So surely Kill I answer no that man That liueth now and view's the storme and can Still be affraid of Death I must surmize A Renegade or full of Cowardize No Penitent can feare and hee that
still Retaines a heart unbroken acts more ill Than all his life before that soule is Steele Which doth not bleed that hell which doth not feele The present blow It is with us who here Hourely view death as when exempt of feare At an Ostend or such a Siege to die The Souldiers thought it a Necessitie And so did slight it when each houre were showne So many others Death's t' assure their owne Endeared Friends I am well and better much And in more sweet securitie than such Who thinke of a long life by these death 's here Being freed from what is worse than death the Feare Seldome is Christian Valour better gain'd Than when 't is by such miserie obtain'd I doubt not but that Fame which still doth use To spred abroad more large than certaine newes Hath blaz'd our State and haply doth assure As you suppose farre more then we endure Thus farre let me your doubts herein suffice Rumour it selfe can scarce Hyperbolize Our Reall woe Feare it selfe cannot vow There is more Mischiefe than wee suffer now If you shall heare of Streets wherein the Grasse Doth grow for want of men that use to passe Or Smithfield turn'd a medow or a plaine Wherein the Horses Kine and Sheepe againe May feed rather than sell or of poore men That in their Graues together lie by ten By twenties or by more or sodaine Fates Of people dying in the streets and gates Doe not suppose it false we wretches trie What other Ages shall hold Poetrie A March in midst of August and the Star That raigneth now farre from Canicular In all but the effects not cloth'd in bright And scorching Sun-shine but in midst of Night And Winter stormes as if the Plague did flie Wrap't in those clouds to fright the troubled Skie And blast mortalitie the ayre the while Scarce in a Moneth strikes forth one pleasing smile Muffled in damps so close that from beneath Wee deeme it hard by any way but Death To see bright Heauen againe The Rurall swaines Begin to doubt the Vsurie of their paines And Prophesie a Famine and the Earth Choked with Carkasses threatens a Dearth As a Reuenge The Skies the while doe showre Downe poysonous tempest to augment the power Of her pretended Malice while the breath Of blacke contagious windes doe transport Death Through the enuenom'd ayre Earth Aire and Skie Conspiring to our great Calamitie In what a case poore London stands to show Would aske a Pen and Muse that onely know How to write griefe alas it is become A Theatre of Tragedies where some Di'de i' th' first acts and many slaughters past God knowes what murder shall be in the last I liue not in it but in Chelsey aire Where Death but in his Out-rodes doth repaire And thence doe onely heare the murmuring Bels Disclose the slaughter by the frequent Knels Yet as a tender Mother though shee haue A Child interr'd and sleeping in the graue Yet will she oft goe see the tombe and dew His dust with pious teares and oft renew His Posthume exequies so sometime I Goe to behold the Citie and espie As I doe walke along the widdow'd streets Nothing but sorrow in each face that meets In the Large ruine nothing but a griefe That speakes it selfe in silence true and briefe Ah deere Sirs it is changed from the Place Yee knew it once when as the beautious face Of Gallantrie inrich'd the Streets and Eyes Of frequent beautie made it a Paradise And the Delight of Nations whose concourse Thither and the Refluxe as from the Source Of humane Kinde did make it seeme to bee The Center of the World the Worlds Epitome Death now alas hath not begun but led His Triumph through the Towne and largely spred His gloomy wings in circuit o're the Walls Attended by ten thousand Funerals As if those Pageants raised to renowne Our deere Queenes Well-come and great Charles his Crowne Had bin of purpose made a Wofull throne For Death and Fate to sit spectatours on When I see these thinke you I can forbeare But praise that God who let 's me still be here And makes me not a Spectacle as they That now are mine and liu'd but yesterday Deare Friends it is not London but the shade And Carkasse of that place in ashes layd Where you shall see in stead of sport and play A false yet as it seemes a Holiday The Doores shut up and all the Streets about But here and there a Passenger walke out So solemne silence that a man would say 'T were a light Night or Seruice-time all Day The Bells as frequent as when oft they sound When a yong Prince is borne or new King crown'd Which heard a Stranger might be brought to sweare The Fift of August or Nouember there Were Solemnized now which to assure The Bon-fires almost euery night procure A Shade of Ioy which if you right will Know As funerall Piles not solemne Bonfires glow The Bells in their sad language almost tell They ring no Holiday but speake a Knell The Doores so shut that one in them might doubt Whether it were to keepe Death in or out What Muse shall I inuoke t' indite a rime That may expresse our miserable time Where the pale Visages of men expresse Farre aboue Poetrie the Heauinesse Of Gods sharp Scourge where the Red wand affrights The Starring Passenger and troubled Nights Are spent in Burials when what e're we see Is but an Argument of Miserie The Wormwood-Nosegayes the trembling Pace Of them that passe though they haue Herbe of Grace And curious Boxes to repell the ayre Which might assault them seeming to out-dare The will of Destinie Nor can I blame Our weake Mortalitie which thinkes no shame To show a frailtie deeming perhaps that Fate Can yeeld to Soueraigne Bezoar Mithridate Or such Death-killers let us thinke so still So wee root out that weed of Sin and ill Which taints our soules so though for many yeares It haue preuail'd wee 'l drowne it in our teares And Kill this Giant Plague which through the towne As an unloosed Lyon beareth downe What e're it meets making no doubt to strike The cloudie Cedar and low Shrub alike So quicke and fast that it makes men to say 'T will not be long untill the Iudgement Day Absolue the Massacre Death so doth shrine To bring the Vniuerse to light againe So few are borne to life so many Die Lucina doth not Tith Mortalitie As if Death would not leaue untill for all Doomesday doe make one fire one funerall When now the Weeke-bills almost reach unto The summe which that of th'yeare had wont to doe If from the Towne a Stranger should but spie How the affrighted People hast to flie In trembling heapes hee could not but suppose The ransack'd Citie taken by the Foes And now possess'd and the remaining rout On a strict composition flying out Enter the Citie you shall meet with there A fearefull Valour an audacious Feare Where men doe