pitch of Pride And end oh sad Divisions end beside Your selves Earths Power Device and all The helpe of Hell can never worke our fall Come sweet-fac'd Vertue come and banish Vice Come Union make our Land Earths Paradise Come Loves triumphant Lawes and you shall be The Presidents of our Tranquilitie You orient glitt'ring Pearles that Earth count Toyes Shew us some glances of Celestiall joyes By Vertues raritie Truth Peace and Love You are those Sisters which doe dwell above Archt in the highest Glory are no lesse Then Royall Twins in matchlesse blessednesse Oh if our blacknesse may not blast your bloome Or if our stamm'ring words may finde a roome In your most sacred eares let Truth expell Those damned Errors that arise from Hell And let harmonious Peace heale up our Skarre And give a counter-mand to threatning Warre And then the last and loveliest of the three â—et Beautie looke upon Deformitie And make us like to you oh let our shame Love your blest memorie in immortall fame And as you move in your harmonious Spheares So guide our earthly bodies let our teares Wash off Deformitie which did annoy Make us an embleme of Loves highest joy Or else we shall if not by you thus blest â—ine out those dayes we number to our rest CHAP. V. Verse 1. REmember Lord our evils let them be Character'd in Gold in thy blest Memorie That lasting Register that righteous Scroule Conscience Vice-royall to th' immortall Soule Shall stand to witnesse while the sinner cryes To some vast mountaine to eclipse his eyes From the Tribunall Throne then Lord make roome For Furie let th' enemie have his doome 2 Our faire Inheritance like a short Song Is done and gone and thus we passe along Like Times benighted Shadowes so are we Tyred in pursuit of Earths Vanitie Yea Vanitie indeed were it not thus Why is the world so constant various Why should our Houses Vineyards and our paine Be our inraged enemies present gaine 3 Our dearest Fathers in their honoured Age By Death were summon'd from Earths troubled Stage And now they slumber now they rest and lye Rockt in Deaths Chariot with lost Lullaby Our tender Mothers having lost their Loves Mourne like th' amorous Widow'd Turele-Doves And we their sonnes who live in desolate Tents Are silent Ruines of their Monuments 4 The pleasant Rivers whose sweet erystall streames Refresht our soules with plentie like the beames Of orient Phoebus when he makes his way To cloathe all mortals with a Sun-shine day Yet these our Waters and our Wood is sold By weight and measure for the price of Gold Nay more then Gold our Bondage that may tell Coyne with affliction hath no paralell 5 The almost-tyred Horse would rest his Load From his gall'd shoulders in the dustie Road But for the Driver thus poore we would borrow An inch of respit for an age of sorrow We are as Horses to th'eitlemies yoakes Laden with burthens and pursu'd with stroakes Of our foes envie now we know how blest Is the rare royaltie of purchas'd Rest 6 What heapt-up Plentie had our flourisht Land Once for to glory in when her high hand Was stretcht to other Nations in reliefe For wealth and honour she was counted chiefe Among Earths Royall Princes now even she Of late inthroned in Earths Majestie Is sold to AEgypt and to Ashur so We earne our bread to linger out our woe 7 And it is just we should so while that we Live in knowne Folly and Iniquitie Our Fathers they have sinn'd we bear their Names And their Rebellion and why not their shames Our Fathers finn'd and dy'd and are we better Then our fore-fathers was not man a debter Since th' old words Creation by folly why Doth sinfull man then thinke so much to die 8 What in the world is more accounted vaine Then servants for to rule or fooles to raigne Over th'honour'd Age even such are we While we are captiv'd to Captivitie Thus Earth is various and mans renowne Is but a Dreame not worth the writing downe And if his glory be an idle Theame Who can expect realitie in a Dreame 9 Famine is feeble yet the hungry soule Is strong and valiant and he dares controule A thousand eminent dangers if that he May feed his hunger and necessitie Thus with the perill of our dearest breath We got our living in the spight of death In bondage slaverie labour toyle and paine While the Sword randevouz'd upon the plaine 10 Those Alabaster bodies whose rare faces Were drest with sweetnesse fit for th' imbraces Of undefiled Love now now alas Those flourishing flowers are but like the grasse The with'ring dying grasse parcht up with heat Black as the Oven thus for want of meat Poore Sion is deform'd with sinne and shame While Warre and Famine hath eclips'd our fame 11 Now wickednesse is ripe now sinne doth climbe Now Pride aspireth to the wings of Time Now fire is kindled in th'Adulterers eye With hideous flames whose wandring sparkles flye To catch at ev'ry object which he may Shewing black impudence in height of day Deflowring Maidens and defiling Wives They make their mem'rie stink like their loath'd lives 12 The valiant Prince whose Royaltie did shine Through Clouds of Envie now the foes combine By Death to dim his Glory and the head Of the wise Elder is dishonoured Base Earth these are thy gifts and therefore wee Dishonour Vertue by our honouring thee Let thine owne servants love thee which doe spend Time in vaine folly to an idle end 13 How is illustrious Sion now declin'd From her high Dignitie her young men grinde In the laborious Mill the flowred Age Whose strength and valour taught them to ingage In fields of bloudie Warre when the proud foe Could often witnesse their owne overthrow Though now we are in woe our Children crie Under their heavie burthens till they die 14 Those Lawes are cancell'd too which sometimes we Did memorize in immortall memorie The holy Elder sits not in the Gate With Heav'ns authoritie to predominate Our mirth is alcumiz'd to funerall Songs And like sad Elegies to tell our wrongs To other Nations while our following teares Feeds our sad eye-lids as our mirth the eares 15 The royall Tones which sometimes was afforded From the rare Instrument whose strings recorded A well-measur'd evennesse whose sweet story Emblem'd the harmonie of highest glory And Loves eternall joy now all is gone Our Dance is ended merriment is moane Our Musick metamorphos'd and our mirth Sings this sad Song oh false deluding Earth 16 Oh false deluding Earth honour and pow'r And all thy glory is as a swift-run howre Whose hastie minutes whose laborious sand Doth run to over-take the wandring hand Of Sols beshadow'd Dyall thus our Crowne Of Earthly Royaltie Time trampleth downe Woe to our soules that we have sinn'd for why Sinne makes up miserie with mortalitie 17 Therefore our hearts are sad therefore our sleepe Forsakes our eye-lids therefore doe we weepe Therefore our soules are
teare bedewed eyes Laments and sighs the maidens Lover dyes And now poore Sion must her boddy dresse In darke in dismall mournfull heavines 5 Her thundring Foes are lofty they are high That are the Actors of her Tragedy Her Pride and Insolence first brought this Rod Nor is it more then just that Israels God Should sometimes lash his owne since their owne Crimes Spurr'd on their ruine to these dismall Times The Fathers sins have wrought the Childrens woe The Childrens griefe the Fathers overthrow 6 That lovely beauty which did often shine More glorious than the day with grace divine Those amorous glances once which had the art To blind the Lovers eye and steale his heart Are now deformed and the ashy hand Of death hath spoyl'd the glory of the Land The Royall Princes which possest the Throne Of Kingly Majesty are fled and gone 7 Now sad Jerusalem sits and calls to mind All her Rebellion Ah she was unkind To sin against her Lord who checked Kings For Sions sake and gave her pleasant things Had she but clave to him as he was just Shee had not laid her honour in the dust Nor been a scorne for fooles which sometimes say What gained Israell by the Sabbath day 8 And wonder not Jerusalem is so mockt Of all that hate her for her sins have rockt Her senses to a slumber none do show The sad approaching of her overthrow The lovely City now they much despise Who sometimes honoured her their lofty eyes Looke scornefull one her in her misery thus That face is loath'd that was so amorous 9 Her shame lies hid to none both foe and friend Yet she remembred not her latter end Therefore her fall was wondrous sudden oh Why went poore Sion slumbring to her woe And who shall comfort poore Jerusalem now O glorious God looke on my miseries thou Art alsufficient thou canst blow aside The hopes of Mortalls in their height of pride 10 And now the furious Foe hath stretcht his hand On her rich Ornaments and pleasant Land And ' cause he thought this not enough to do Thy Sanctuary is polluted too Although O Lord thou once didst give command That no false stranger in a forreigne Land Should dare to come with his unhallowed eyes Where thine Annointed offer Sacrifice 11 Ah me who shall relieve me with some bread Our hearts are faint with hunger feare and dread Hath fill'd my tottering soule where shall I flye That Famine finde me not and so I dye My Garments Jewels Bracelets and my Rings Houses and Vineyards all my pleasant things I give for bread unto the angry foe Thou seest O Lord our soules are wondrous low 12 Looke backe ye travellers O cast your eye Ye wandring strangers that are passing by If you have any pitty come and see If any Nation were so low as me What sorrow is like mine what sufferings can Compare with Sions that befalleth man While the displeasure of my angry God Sweeps off my glory with his lashing Rod 13 The burning fury of the high Jehove Makes faint my heart his jealousie above Prevailes against me and I sit in doubt How to get in his favour or how out Of his displeasure ah there is a net Spread for my feet a scorching furnace her To burne me from my drosse that I may be Refin'd from sin and Sathans Empery 14 All my transgressious as a heavy yoake Are fastened by his arme and every stroake Is laid upon my neck my heart is weake Since my accused soule those Lawes did breako Which I was bound to keep the Almighty hand Of Israels God hath wasted Israels Land My glory is departed and mine eyes Behold no meanes for ever to arise 15 Those mighty Warriers which did shelter round The Gates of Sion whose brave deeds redound To Israels glory and their Enemies wonder Lie bleeding on the ground and trodden under The Lord hath call'd a counsell to consound All Iudah's glory on the Crimson ground The bleeding bodies of the young men joyne He trod them under as they tread the Vine 16 For these things do I weepe mine eye mine eye Doth wash my Cheeckes oh what felicity Can sad Ierusalem have in these diasters nay Those that should comfort me arefar away My Land is desolate all my friends are laine In strong Captivity and my Children slaine My God hath left me to the Enemies power Ah who will caseme in this troubled houre 17 Now lovely Sion sits with silent moanes She would implore some help by her deep groanes Alas but there is none the furious Foe Desireth nothing but her overthrow The Lord hath lay'd a mighty siege about The Tents of Iacob and she sits in doubt Of her deliverance while her Foes deride And loath her Actions as a wanton Bride 18 And yet our God is just and righteous too Though sad Ierusalem knowes not what to do The Royall City dow does mourne because She oft rebell'd against his righteous Lawes Ye neighbouring Nations that Spectatours be That sometimes looke upon my Tragedy Behold my Virgins and my young men go To long Captivity and ling ring woe 19 My dearest lovers which should have reliev'd me As sometimes Lovers do they quite deceiv'd me The Priest and Elders both for hunger faile Their lookes are wan their countenance is pale Their bodies weake and giddy is their head Their strength does faile their wills for lack of bread They seeke for food and find their labour vaine Famine and Death doth in the Kingdome raigne 20 Yet O my Lord how do my bowells yearne For mourning Israel the Foes are stearne My bowels swell my heart is turned too With woe and griefe what shall poore Sion do How can Jerusalems sorrowes but possesse My troubled soule with woe and heavinesse At home the Famine reignes the people dye Abroad the Sword doth compleat misery 21 Ierusalem knowes I dayly fit and weep Ah had security nere lull'd asleep This glorious Nation earths admired prize We should not then have drencht our watry eyes In teares for Israels woe nor been so sad But now our Enemies skoffe our Foes are glad Our Nation once was high and glorious But now are poore Lord make our Enemies thus 22 Oh Lord let all their sins come up to thee And do to them as thou hast done to me Puffe all their glory out and let them dye Like to false joy in midst of miserie And let us be delivered by thy Will Though we have sin'd and oft done wondrous ill O heare my sighs do not forget my moanes My â—eart is faint with oft repeated groanes CONTEMPLATION ANd is it so hath Israels God forsaken The Tents of Jacob Is their Citie taken And all their young men slaine does the most high From his owne Israel turne back his eye Does he withdraw himselfe and let the Foe To glory in poore Israels overthrow Is Iudah spoyl'd and do the Enemies swell While their black Actions often prosper well Does sweet-fac'd Sion mourne woe
hollow-hearted therefore is forsaken And in the dust doth Sions honour lye To be a Proverb for the passers by Who is more slighted and who more revil'd Then the bad Servant or the stubborne Child If Heavens Children disobedient be Their sure reward is Earths indignitie 46 The looks of Envie and the mouth of Fame Act both their hatefull Parts to wound and shame Our Soules Oh this unwelcome howre Why is our glory in th' enemies powre And what can we expect from these our foes But wry-mouth'd slander slaverie and blowes Oh Lord deliver us from th' enemies hand And blast their malice with a counter-mand 47 May not the first suffice Feare and a Snare Alas it is enough what mortall dare Challenge a single Duel with these here Feare brings a Snare and Snares begetteth Feare The next is Hate and Ruine and these be The foure Contrivers of our Tragedie Lord strike the Epilogue and change the Stage And make a Golden of our Iron Age. 48 As when Apollo doth his glory shroud Behind the Curtaine of some darkned Cloud The Ayre lamenting Phoebus absence poures Upon the Earth some drops of weeping showres Thus doth our Sunne set and our sorrowes rise Darkning the light of our benighted eyes And makes our floud-gates send forth showrie streames For the sad losse of Heav'ns illustrious beames 49 Will not the Heavens cleare and will the Day Ne'r break these chaines of Night and come away Why doth this Cypresse Girdle often bind The circled world Ah are we still confin'd To sit in these darke shadowes Must our teares Be still as constant as our nightly feares Our eyes are springs whose streams can never stay Rise sweet-fac'd Phoebus rise and bring the Day 50 Although my heavie heart be thus opprest Although my tott'ring soule be kept from rest Although mine eyes with looking up are blind Although my miserie hath o'rwhelm'd my mind Yet Lord cast but a splendour from thy Throne My heart shall cease to grieve my soule to groane Mine heart my mind my tongue and memorie Shall all in one set forth thy Majestie 51 The eye is but the prospect of the heart A little member yet it doth take part Of ev'ry sorrow and our inward griefe The eye relenting doth implore beliefe The heart is hid so are our secret feares But the eye shewes them with its gushing teares What my still troubles are mine eyes doe speake And were it not for teares my heart would breake 52 Run not so fast O ye my following Foes Let me a little breathe betweene your blowes Strike not so thick on my disarmed head Let not your cruell hate so farre be led To bring me as a Bird into Deaths snare Let me have freedome howsoe'r I fare Let me but serve my God in his high Hill And doe your worst my Foes doe what you will 53 Pride and Presumption did me once commit To the low Dungeon where my soule did sit Inveloped in darknesse and cold clay Not making diff'rence 'twixt the night and day And on the mouth of which they cast a stone To keepe me sure or fearing that my mone Should reach the eares of Heaven thus their doome Interr'd and layd me in Earths hollow'd wombe 54 Th' aspiring surges of the swelling Ocean That sometimes kisse the Clouds whose motion Is backt with Thunder Ship and men First tost up toward Heaven then agen They come as swiftly downeward to the brinke Sometimes they soare aloft and sometimes sinke Sometimes my Faith did blow a pleasant gale Till I was sinking then my Faith did faile 55 Out of the bowels of Earths hollow'd Wombe I sometimes whisper'd Ah is this my Tombe Am I interr'd in Earth and am I sent To lye for ever in this Monument Ah hath the Lord forgot his grace and why Doth wrath so long lodge in th' Almighties eye Breathe joy to my sad Soule dear Lord thy breath Gives light in darknesse and a life in death 56 How unbelieving is the heart of man How base and fearefull and how vaine who can Know the delusions that are lodged there How farre from Faith how full of slavish feare My Soule can witnesse Lord thou hear'st my crie What need I then use this tautologie But that it strengthneth Faith which would decay The more thou promisest the more wee 'l pray 57 Love Power and Feare did all at once agree In a low heart to make a harmonie First Love doth cloath the Soule with sweetnesse and Heav'n gives base Earth a pow'rfull countermand And therefore riseth as a Lion strong And thus proclaimes Who dares to offer wrong To this most am'rous Soule while Heav'n is here Blest is the heart where dwels Love Powre and Feare 58 The valiant Champion whose deeds may claime A share of Honour and the breath of Fame His Truth and Valour hath no other Lawes For the desending of the weaker Cause But love to Faith and Vertue even thus Heav'n makes his Name on Earth most glorious By blowing of our dangers and our harme With power and wonder from his Warlike Arme. 59 My Lord I 'm wrong'd th' accused Prisoner cryes Th'Indictment's false th' envious Witnesse lyes You know my Lord the man tells nothing true I will appeale to Heaven and to you Yet may the blinded Judge against the Lawes Hang the poore Prisoner and condemne his Cause But Lord thou art a Witnesse of our state Our Judge our Father Friend and Advocate 60 Rocks cannot save thee nor high mountaines hide thee Seas will not have thee nor the Earth abide thee Day not adorne thee darknesse not protect thee Thy foes will scorne thee and thy friends reject thee Night cannot hide thy black-mouth'd malice nay Thy mistie mid-night's like the midst of day And if the glorious day shall shew my wrong It is not long to day it is not long 61 And as the dazling beames of Heav'ns bright eye Rising aloft in his high Majestie Discov'reth all disasters which are hurld With shades of darknesse in the mantled world Ev'n so my God thy piercing eye thine care Is quick in seeing and most swift to heare Thou seest their consultations judge my Cause By the true tenor of thy righteous Lawes 62 Ah foolish enemie why dost thou wrong Thy silly selfe I know thy envious tongue Would poyson those whose actions God doth love But they this piece of hatred are above Thy plots or black complyance O thou Drone What needst thou whisper when thy heart is knowne But yet goe on thou shalt not lose thy hire In th' infernall Lake of furious fire 63 Doth mirth become a foole it is not fit They should be merry that have got no wit Did I say wit 't is wisdome that I meane There may be wit where wisdome ne'r was seene If wisdome were with wit their Songs would be Not drest with Lines of non-sence Poetrie Sing on vaine Drunkards laugh your merry jeeres I doubt will change there is a time for teares 64 Reward
journeyes end Some die for love and some by hate doe die Some end their dayes through pining povertie And some by too much riches some the Sword Doth part in sunder others by a word Receive their Deaths alarum all must fall But Death by Famine is the worst of all 10 A Feast is made for mirth but mourners shall Attend our Banquet to our Funerall And see the tender Mother full of feares Bathing her Infant with her watrie teares Yet must she kill the prettie harmelesse Dove The Lawes of Famine blot the Line of Love Go sweet-fac'd Babe this feast was not for laughter Thou go'st before thy Parents follow after 11 Come let 's be sad O Sion let our eyes Pumpe flouds of teares to drowne this sacrifice Of indignation lest th' aspiring flames Lick up our Kingdome and consume our names The Sword doth range and now the fire doth climbe To meet the Starres and scorch the wings of Time The proudest Pinacle and the highest Towre Is farre too weake to grapple with their Powre 12 Come let 's be sad Oh Sion while our teares Confute the Nations that were full of jeeres Why was the darkned world so blinded why Did the proud King thinke Heav'n would falsifie Why would you not believe that the high hand Of pow'rfull Babylon should take our Land Know now vaine mortals Heav'n's not like to you For he is faithfull holy just and true 13 Oh sinn now hast thou drawne thy Curtain round The darkned world and how are mortals drownd In thy in chanting streames the Prophet lyes The Priests are foolish that are counted wise The wise and hardie sinners courage cooles And those are wisest that are counted fooles Ev'n the jest man although he suffer here The day of his Redemption draweth neere 14 Have you beheld the blind with what a pace He walks along guarding his tender face And body with his staffe for feare of hurt And yet at last he tumbleth in the durt Thus blind men wandred and for want of eyes They tumble in the bloudie sacrifice Of many a bleeding body which by hate Were hurt and slaine poore vile unfortunate 15 Depart polluted Israel cry the foes depart From Sions territories set not your heart Upon her glory that so quickly dyes Your feet your hands and your unhallowed eyes Are too unholy now no prayers will pierce Th' eares of Heaven the spacious Universe Will give you no prosperitie for why Sinne is the cause that makes mans glory die 16 Dare man that feeble Worme and transitorie Forgotten Dreame thinke it a piece of glory To warre against th'Almightie Can he make The Earth to tremble or by Power shake The fabrick of the World or blast the name Of the proud enemie in their height of fame But as you have begun your mischiefe so The Lord shall make an end presumptious foâ— 17 How blind are our vaine eyes with solly Can There be a certaine help from helpLesse man We thought th' Aegyptians Armie sure would save Our starved bodies from the hungry grave But they were weake and now our foes affaile us Our foes offend us and our friends doe faile us Can any mortall save himselfe from harme Put then no trust O man in thy weake arme 18 Like tyred Harts we are insnared round With light-foot Hunters and the following Hound And now our tyred soules for lack of breath Yield themselves pris'ners to pursuing Death Our Sunne is set the laboring sands are run From Times swift Hower-glasse our Day is done 'T is done indeed Time alwayes did attend us Time did begin us therefore Time must end us 19 The Ioftie Eagle in his high Carriere Aspires to touch the starrie Hemisphere And in his height of pride he faine would be Inheriter of Luna's Canopie Eagles are not so swift to make their way Through the light Ayre as is this Ball of Clay This uncollected man whose hate doth meet My wandring foot-steps in the desolate street 20 The King our Royall King our verybreath Was a sad offring sacrific'd to death Whose down fall sinkes our soules yet what was he But a weake embleme of mortalitie His dignitie a dreame his honour fades Like morning shadowes or the ev'ning shades Hath Wealth Health Honor and Preferment wings So have their hopes that put their trust in Kings 21 And now Oh Edom joy falls thick on joy On thy poore selfe our torments were a toy To thee laugh on or rather learne to steepe Thy soule in sorrow teach thine eyes to weepe O Land of Vz the Cup comes o'r to thee The Cup of Poyson and Calamitie The world the Edom which did ring thy name Shall see the sorrow of a sinners shame 22 But gentle Sion now the Heav'ns are cleare The morning riseth and thy darkned seare Is set the glorious lustre of Heav'ns eye Disperseth darknesse from th' Orient Skie Our Woe is past but Edom next must be Our following fellowes to Captivitie Whose sad destruction to the world will show A second mourning Monument of Woe CONTEMPLATION IV. HOw Orient is bright Phoebus in each Ray Promising the glory of a Sun-shine Day â—n some bright new-borne Morning but ere he Aspires the height of Heavens Canopie O'r-rid in highest Noone his beautie shrouds It selfe in sable Curtaines of darke Clouds The Heavens now looke angry and the Aire That was so calme so cleare so pleasant faire Is drest with horrid darknesse while in sunder The Spheres do seem to rend with claps of thunder And dreadfull firie flashes which doe flie More swift then thought along the darkned Skie Ah world thus various art thou and thus strange Thus apt to alter and thus apt to change Thus oft dost promise and more oft dost breake While thou pretendest power and yet art weake Sometimes thou hast a Smile sometimes a Frowne Sometimes thou sett'st us up then pull'st us downe Sometimes th' Heavens are cleare and sometimes darke The Morning calme yet in th' Evening hearke What showres and dreadfull thunder-cracks there be Ere Phoebus cooles him in the Westerne Sea Sometimes we have our health and ease then oh A little sicknesse brings us wondrous low Sometimes w'have wealth and then our winged store Like Hawkes flye from our fist and we are poore In a short moment sorrow comes too soone Upon the back of joy and like the Moone We varie sometimes Love makes Envie cease Sometimes we live in Warre sometimes in Peace We rise aloft we aspire we sit on high Then we descend decease lye downe and die The often changing of the various weather Is a true embleme whither wilt thou whither O Earth conduct us but me thinkes our eye Knowes too too well thy various vanitie And for our president poore Sions losse Will teach us well their Gold was turn'd to drosse Their precious stones to pebles and their place A ruin'd heape their honour to disgrace Their fulnesse now is Famine and their Soyle Is barren too their pleasure is a spoyle Their beautie
heavie like a stone And our bath'd bosomes Monuments of moane Or Brazen Epitaphs if such there be Which keepe the dead in lasting memorie Leave me a while my teares bid me adue Mine eyes ere long shall doe as much for you 18 Because of the high mountaines which surround The faire Jerusalem my head is drown'd With my tormenting teares that loftie Hill From which the Traveller might looke his fill About the promis'd Land when mid-day Sunne Survey'd the circled word now Foxes runne Upon those ruin'd Territories which is In spight of Envie the worlds Paradise 19 But ah why doe we murmure what shall he That is but Dust dispose Eternitie To his fond reasoning Lord thou shalt remaine Although mortalitie be counted vaine And soone shall vanish yet thou art for aye Thou art not mortall as the sonnes of Day And if thy Throne before all Time begun Then thou shalt rule when Times swift race is run 20 Wherefore so soone dost thou forget us then Or why so long are we poore sonnes of men Forgotten of thee wherefore didst thou make us A pleasant Paradise and then forsake us Can Soules stay here on Earth when Death bereaves them Can Bodies live when once the Soule doth leave them Can Mortals prosper then when God doth dresse His face with anger and forgetfulnesse 21 Turne us O Lord and we shall turne indeed And if thou turne us not our Land may bleed In after-Ages since no pow'r at all Is in fond man since man at first did fall Renue those ancient dayes that prosp'rous time When Sion once was seated in the prime Of Princely Royaltie why hast thou hurl'd Deformitie on the glory of the world 22 But ah what solace can poore Isr'el spie Within this darkned Orb when Heav'ns bright eye Is furrow'd up with frownes if thou reject us What Land can save us or what Arme protect us Oh dearest Lord how doth thine anger paine Our fainting Soules oh how exceeding vaine Is the worlds dignitie alas our yeares Begun with troubles and must end with teares CONTEMPLATION V. OUr lab'ring sands are run yet Reader stay There is an Epilogue to the Tragick Play And it shall not be tedious yet what he That dips his Pen in Divine Poetrie And on so rare a Subject but must spend Some wearie houres ere his Worke will end But ah how dull is my dark Genius in this story I doe but veile sweet Loves Celestiall Glory With a black Curtaine while the holy Writ Is drest with Lines of my unworthy wit Oh I could rayle aloud at my dull Muse For this her ignorance I could accuse My dulled Pen my hand that ere I tooke Such heav'nly Oracles to make a Booke Of such poore valuation and oft times In anger I could rend these idle Rimes In thousand pieces for my Glasse is run And I must end before I have begun For should I now my Subject here define Each line 's a sentence and each word a line In these high Oracles but I doe wrong The Reader much to keepe him off so long From the last Contemplation which may smell Like costly Odours some may like it well Then pray good Reader that it may be blest Something He shew thee studie out the rest It was a Custome when th' Arcadian Kings Would aske an Oracle for weightie things Of god Apollo they durst not presume Without a Cloud of Smoake and rich Perfume To smother their Oblations with their Crie To urge the eares of the deafe Deitie These blinded Heathens have out-stript us they Although they knew no God would sometimes pray When imminent dangers were ev'n at the dore Each cry'd unto his god each did implore Some help from unknown Powers they would cast Their bodies on their knees they 'd mourn and fast And yet could have no answer all their paine Was labour lost their gods themselves were vaine But oh deluded England though thy knee Hath rockt dull man into a lethargie Of sensuall pleasures and hast glut his sence In a fooles paradise of Earths evidence Though we have slept in thy imbracing armes Dreaming of Heaven till these numerous swarmes Of feares did come and wake us yet we know We have a God that with one finall blow Can turne this spacious Universe aside And blast Hells Princes in their height of pride Yet doe but marke how farre we are behinde The Heathen world that were both deaf and blinde Yea dead in ignorance we all can say That prayer is prevalent yet few doe pray And fewer pray aright few that can tell The truest way few doe this dutie well And those that doe it best how slack they be Where is the man that prayeth constantly Yet what more comely then this sweet devotion Prayer is the wings that gives the Soule a motion To high eternitie it is the hand That reacheth Clusters from the promised Land Of sweet illustrious glory it is the Armes Thaâ—â—he Soule weares against insuing harmes Prayer backt with Faith is of farre greater force Then Warlike footmen o're the trampling Horse It conquers mightie Armies wins the field Strengthens the weake and makes the mightie yield Gives feet unto the lame eyes to the blinde Courage to Cowards vertue to the minde And honour for disgrace Credit for shame In stead of bad reports a righteous Name It gives us food when Famine doth commence It blunts the Sword and stops the Pestilence It gives the sick recov'rie of his health And sends the poore man unexpected wealth And what is more desired who can tell It open'th Heaven and it conquers Hell It makes the Furies tremble makes them flee To that low Vault of black eternitie With all their Plots of mischiefe which the Arts Of Fiends contriv'd it blunts the firie darts Of Satan and it gaines a Royall Crowne Of endlesse glory and unmatcht renowne And when the Earth is drie like parched Graine It flyes to Heaven and it fetcheth Raine And if the Corne be drown'd in water then Prayer Jocks up those stormie showers againe It calmes the swelling Ocean and it tames The burning Fornace and the firie flames It stayes the Lyons force without a wound It layes the sonnes of Anak on the ground It gives the tyred Soule a little breath Gaines immortalitie and conquers Death And is 〈◊〉 Then for our troubled Times Here is a Copie of Prophetick Rimes That tells the world there is a Death at hand Unto the foes of Heaven and our Land Mistake not Reader if at all thou lack The sence hereof this is no Almanack I doe not speake an end of Englands Warres By the strange motion of the wandring Starres Though it be plaine it would not be so well To write Predictions or to paralell The wondrous course of Heaven and each Starre No no good Reader 't is no Kalender For they may sometimes lye but even you Whom it concernes shall finde this Booke is true The holy Prophet with inspired skill Fore-told your Doome he never us'd
and alas 'T is so indeed how came these things to passe Oh how mine eyes could send a floud of teares To wash this Paper while my deafened eares Are rouz'd with this allarum which is hurld By heavens appointment through the circled world But shall we thinke God is unjust in this To scourge his Children if they do amisse If the wide world had not some sufferings sure The lives of Nations would be too secure Yet heaven's not easily mov'd to send his Rod 'T was Israels sins offended Israels God But if the best of Saints so ill do fare Where shall the crue of damned Sinners share But in eternall darknesse whose black Tombe Shall scare the first but give the last their doome Go on then Sinners plunder kill and spoile Those harmelesse Lambes it is but for a while The time is wondrons short this Inch of time Thou mayst do much thy swelling heart may clime Unto the top of envy and it may Hazzard eternity in a short lived day Perhaps a yeare may finish up thy Course And then thou Son of Beliall death will force Thy soule to long eternity and thou must thither How will thy trembling knees then knock together When thou shalt know Death summons thee to dye With thoughts of torment in Eternity And last of all Is mourning Israels Land So soone subdued by heavens immediate hand Then let not England though the best of three Distempered Lands dreame of security The Nations who possest the aforesaid place Had greater measure of Celestiall grace And yet they were destroy'd can there be peace In Englands Borders unlesse sin doth cease Turne to thy God O England lest his hand Doth overturne the glory of the Land The black mouth'd Swearer he doth rend in sunder His Makers Name with Oaths like claps of thunder The proud mans scornefull eye does hate to see His beggered Neighbour falne in misery The lives of Harlots in their capring Schooles Are kept by young men Natures blinded Fooles The covetous muckworme he himselfe hath sold To live in service to the God of Gold A little after comes his Son and he Throwes all away in prodigality Wonder of wonders why 's not Englands glory As dim as Sion's made a bloudy Story For other Lands to read her downfall why Doth sin survive and yet not England dye Why is not London that was sometimes famous To the wide Universe now held as hainous As was poore Sion ah her sins abound Why dyed she not when she receiv'd a wound In the last fatall War why has this place So much of blessing and so little grace Why doth not fier range in every street Methinkes 'twere just that Sword and Famine meet While War did tumble all our Bulworkes down And strangers get the glory of the Crowne Indeed 't were just it should so while that we Are lull'd asleep in sad security The Prophet here laments his weeping eyes Are washt with teares because the miseries Of Sion was approaching often he Was bath'd in teares for their calamity But we so far from pittying of our Land Thus sunke in sin that with a mighty hand We adde unto her woe by sin and thinke The eye of heaven doth but sit and winke Oh glorious God who art that holy one Lovely in beauty whose most royall Throne Is borne by winged Cherubins most high Where mighty Angels praise thy Majestie What is this microcosmus what are we That thou O Lord shouldst take felicity In weake and feeble man whose borrowed breath Doth every minute journey to his death Why shouldst thou labour with this peece of earth Thus to protect him whose abortive birth Doth but begin his woe yet sleeps secure The Sun the Moone and Starres are too impure In thy most glorious eyes then what is man But a deserver of black Hellican Yet oh our God which art the King of Kings Lord of earths Territories our pleasant things Did all come downe from thee England did flourish When thy Almighty Arme so long did nourish And did so long protect us death and feare Were strangers to our Borders we were deare In thy beloved eyes but ah our woe Was our rebelion and our overthrow Is from our selves our blasted Land had been Counted earths Paradise but that for sin Yet Lord unite the Kingdomes let them be No more a Stage for that dull Tragedie We feare is yet to play Let it once cease And sound us now a harmony of peace One Act is past along oh let thy hand Give to the rest a powerfull countermand And let us now be lead by truth and love Those amorous Sisters which do dwell above And in the Lawes of love let Englands face Be drest with ornaments of blushing grace And then the last of our harmonious Sceanes Shall tell the world what 't is the Gospell meanes Those faithfull labourers in this Vineyard shall Advance the worke with hearts heroicall The Epilogue is joy which ends the Play The Church begins to see a happy day Her steps are lovely sorrowes have their date For love doth conquer envy governe hate CHAP. II. Verse 1. HOw soon is glory dimme the Lord doth shrowd The face of Sion with a darkened cloud His anger darkneth Iudahs borrowed light And her bright glory is as black as night Her beauty is deformed and that eye Where sat enthroned Princely Majesty It quite extinguish'd and the angry hand Or heaven hath spoyl'd the pleasant promis'd Land 2 The Lord hath mixed gall in Iudahs cup And in his fury he hath swallowed up The strength of Sion and her famous City Is turn'd to ashes for he had no pity Upon poore Sion all her holds are humble To his high hand her high battlements tumble To Prince and People folly is imputed And the proud Enemy has the Land polluted 3 The Lord hath cut Ierusalems strength and horne And all the treasure that did once adorne The royall Land of Israel's batter'd downe His countenance he masked with a frowne He hath withdrawne his warlike hand whereby The Campe of Israel made their Enemies flie But now his anger burneth round about The Land of Iacob who can put it out 4 And as an Archer bends his angry Bow To do some ruine suddenly even so He scattereth his Arrows which do vary His right hand threatneth as an Adversary And ev'ry thing on which the curious eye Did take a prospect did by Famine dye The house wherein they call'd upon his name Is levell'd even by a surious flame 5 What wrong can Mortalls do their fury high Is a weake blast but ah mine Enemy Is my offended Lord his wrathfull cup Is powred out and he hath swallowed up My Pallaces and holds are levelled he Hath brought my glory into misery He hath increast my sorrows oh mine eyes Pumpe flouds of teares with silent nightly cries 6 And as a flowred Garden barren made So is his Tabernacle quite decay'd And we are now even as a desolate Nation The Lord hath quite
destroy'd his Congregation The Lord hath caus'd the solemne Feasts to cease And all her Sabbaths ah what little peace Can mourning Sion see in any thing When God despiseth both her Priest and King 7 The Lord hath quite refus'd his holy place Where the high Priest did offer to his Grace Their rich Oblations as they dayly do His Sanctuary he abhorreth too The strength and fortresse of the pleasant Land Is given up into the Enemies hand Who with unhallowed mouths make harmony As in the day of high solemnity 8 The Lord long since hath threatened to destroy The Land of Israel and eclipse her joy And now her earthly right she must resigne Againe to him that gave it for a Line Is streacht about our Borders and we doubt How long this Line of woe is measured out The earth laments the walls do seeke redresse The Land does mourne in woe and heavinesse 9 Her Gates are sunke her mighty Barres destroyd The Citie 's open how can we avoyd The fury of the Foe her Princes gone Among the Gentiles we are left alone The Law is blotted out and none can lend A word of comfort when our miseries end The Lord speakes not by vision not by dreame To tell a period of our dismall Theame 10 The Elders they whose knowledge could confute Great learned Oratours are still and mute They hide their heads in dust their aged eye Is taught to weep and sometimes wish to dye Their loyns in sackcloath they have guirded round And silently they mourne upon the ground The amorous Virgins mourn their cloaths are rent Their beauty is like sorrows monument 11 Oh how mine eyes are blinded with my teares Pumpt from my sorrowes I am big with feares My Liver 's powred out upon the ground For our Lands losse and Kingdomes deadly wound The tender Infants in the streets do lye Imploring bread a little to supply Their hungry soules but yet they with vain moanes At last do dye with oft repeated groanes 12 A little bread the hungry Children cry Most dearest mother ere we quickly dye The mother weeps as fast she faine would give Her life for food that so her Child may live But as the dying Souldiers heart doth pant Labouring for life even so the Infants faint For lack of food the pretty Infant he Sleepes with deaths Lullaby on his mothers knee 13 What need I call a witnesse for thy woe To what shall I compare thy sorrowes oh Most glorious Iudah who is like to thee Blasted so soone so soone in misery How shall I comfort thee O fairest Land Alas thy ruines are beyond the hand Of Art to limne or draw thy breaches be Like mighty surges in the unruly Sea 14 Thy Prophets did delude thee whilst that they With Lyes fore-told thee of a Sun-shine day Their lying lips would not declare thy Lust Nor tell thee Earthly Glory soone would rust Then might thy Times to prosp'rous State been turn'd Thy Land not ruin'd nor thy Citie burn'd But now 't is levell'd even by their Lies Destruction posted on false Prophesies 15 And as the foraine Traveller doth passe He shakes his head and sighes woe and alas His wondring eyes admiring at the Land Which once was glorify'd with Heav'ns high hand Is this the Citie then the Traveller cryes Whose fame invited all the Nations eyes To looke upon her beautie This the Towne Call'd Earths perfection and her high Renowne 16 Even thus the Lord hath done his will on us The face of Sion is most leperous Her hideous Crimes are in her fore-head read The Lord hath done what he determined For he hath turn'd her Regall Glory downe The Heathen sway the Scepter weare the Crowne Our Foes on Earth doe flourish they doe rise It prospers well with Sions Enemies 17 Why goest thou weeping then oh Sion why Art thou thus troubled heaven cannot lye Though thou thy selfe art false what he commands Is finisht by his unresisted hands Thy horrid sins first furrowed up his brow With angry frownes and there 's no pitty now Dwells in his royall bosome but the foe He makes to glory at thy overthrow 18 And now our sinking soules begin to call Unto the Lord oh batter'd ruin'd wall Of dismall Sion once like shining beames Of heavens glory Let teares run like streames Along thy lovely cheeks both day and night Take they no rest but let thy conscience fright Thy soule from slumber lest thy darkned eye Be lull'd asleep in sad securitie 19 Arise and cry the first approaching houre Of silent night and let thy floudgates powre Forth streams of brackish teares mixt with a groan Lift up thy hands before the lofty Throne Of high eternity for the famisht Child Whose Parent 's dead and so the Babes exil'd From their deare mothers armes their lingring breath Longeth and waiteth for a welcome death 20 Behold O Lord our God to whom to whom Hast thou sent forth this heavy sudden doome Oh whom hast thou thus lashed shall we eate Our dearest Children up for want of meate Those pretty new-born Babes whose harmlesse eye Nere knew a sin must such sweet Infants dye And are our Priests and Prophets mangled heare Oh that mine eyes were drowned in a teare 21 Oh that mine eyes with silent teares were drown'd The young and old lye groveling on the ground The warlike youngmen and the amorous face Of spotlesse Virgins death doth now displace And laies them in their monuments they bow Their weake mortallity to heavens fierce brow If these the ruines be of our sad day With flouds of teares I 'le weep my selfe away 22 Thou bring'st my foes about my naked wall Thou giv'st them cause to glory in my fall And they do doe it wherefore dost thou lay Woes to my soule as in a Solemne day Thy wrath was kindled few or none remaine To scape from killing it was counted vaine Those that I nourished with mine own Cup My raging Enemy hath swallowed up CONTEMPLATION II. THe lab'ring Watch is idle if the Spring Be not wound up and thus in ev'ry thing There is a Motion for the Soule doth trace The Lawes of Nature or the Rules of Grace Our hearts are cold and various like the Moone Each minute changing if the righteous Sunne Shine not upon us all the world may marke Our Motion standing and our Glory darke But when the high Creator shewes his face And clothes the Mortall with diviner Grace The brave Heroick heart aspires to shroud His Contemplation loftier then a Cloud What amorous beautie in the world can shine Like to the Graces of a Soule Divine No black Disaster here can ever maske That lovely Face no troubles stay her Taske No mists of miserie eclipse her motion Nor no delusion hinder her devotion The Soule is full of Raptures and her eyes Reacheth Eternitie above the Skyes Th' amorous Soule on Earth is wondrous coy Desiring nothing else but heavenly joy Yet can it be as this lamented story Makes evident that Heaven
all mortalls with her nightly dreames Does with her curled mantle and her charmes Inchant my soule to slumber in her armes Thus lull'd in woe to misery I went As hearses march to their dull monument 7 Oh why does the Almighty hedge us round Can this base earth be lower than the ground The lightfoot Roe-buck with his threatning horne Swallowes the ground up and his eyes do scorne The swift pursuer we inclos'd about Where food cannot get in nor Famine out What griefe or sorrow do I not possesse In chaines of darknesse woe and heavinesse 8 The helplesse Infant who with griefe is prest Seekes Sanctuary in his mothers brest And where should hungry soules direct their cry But to the Pallace of eternity And yet O Lord how oft do we Implore Reliefe of thee for we are wondrous poore But when our torments make us cry aloud Thou wrapst thy glory in a gloâ—my cloud 9 The prison is most dreadfull to the eye Of the sad soule that weares Captivity About his shackled heeles the gingling chaine Afflicts the prisoners memory with paine Thus we are captiv'd ah what shall we do Incles'd inchained and imprisoned too My soes my blowes my crooked ruin'd waies Cuts off with scosse the number of my dayes 10 Can endlesse love be angry will wrath never Be pacified will it live for ever In the Almighties bosome and his mind Ne're harbour pitty but be still unkind Against his chosen people thus to teare Like a sierce Lion or a surious beare Why doth thy Rod in secret places lye Alas poore we are ever in thine eye 11 Thus vain is worldly pompe the slourishing crown Of earthly glory must be trampled downe The shadowed beauty of mans little world Survives a moment then away 't is hurl'd Into a mist of nothing all my waies Are turned backward and my numerous daies Are now cut shorter thus to ev'ry Nation By sin comes ruine death and desolation 12 The skilfull Archer with his threatning hand Drawes forth his Arrow and his eyes doe stand Full fixed on the Marke his furious breath Sends early summons of ensuing death Unto the thing he aimes at so even so My angry God hath bent his angry Bow Where shall I hide me Oh the world 's too narrow To hide a mortall from his flying Arrow 13 'T is vaine my trembling heart for to endever To take thy selfe to flight for that can never Save thee a minute from his flying Dart 'T will quickly reach thee Oh my dying heart His winged shafts have hit me Oh the paine Of a sad wounded Soule on earth how vaine A thing is Pleasure Pride and Profit why Doth man so hug deceitfull Vanitie 14 Scoffe on my angry Foes and let your wiles Be painted over with deceitfull smiles Be merry Gallants let your Laughter rise With Tones of Musick to the lostie Skies Drinke Healths to Sions Ruine and yet know This is the Churches glory and thy woe No Kingdome 's conquer'd but it is by losse No Saint is crowned but he weares the Crosse 15 Urge me no more my soule is fill'd with Gall And bitter-tasted Wormewood Is this all The joy that Earth can yeeld Oh what delusion Hath lying Vanities to bring confusion Upon a tott'ring soule A flatt'ring Kisse Of Earth robs man of everlasting blisse Thus Folly is exalted for a Toy Poore short-liv'd man doth part with endlesse Joy 16 Mans Worke is vaine his Treasure is but travell Man pines in paine his Greatnesse is but gravell We fast we famish too these are our mones Our teeth in stead of food are broke with stones Thus doe we suffer by th'immediate hand Of Heaven and the beautie of our Land Is turn'd a heape of ashes while we have On Earth no Heritance but in the Grave 17 Thus my o'r-whelmed Soule beeame a stranger To Joy and Peace and dwelling neere to danger I sometimes taught my most discensolate heart These following words Ah tim'rous flesh why art Thou fill'd with feares the time is almost heere When thy Redemption Sion draweth neere My Soule forgat her songs for glory dyes Like shining Glo-wormes to benighted eyes 18 Ah sinfull soule hath Sathan got such scope Of mans bad reason that there is no hope Not trust thy God fond Mortall did thine eye Or eare perceive him ever falsifie With his poore Creatures but he succour sent Go rocky heart away thou monument Cut out of marble do not hurt my sence With unbeliefe with shame and diffidence 19 And yet 't was reason when I call'd to mind The monstrous earthquakes and the huffling wind Which turned Israels glory upside downe And gave the foes the honour of the Crowne That I should weep when I remembred all The bitter wormwood and the poysonous gall Weep gentle heart pumpe from my watry eyes The silent streames of mourning Elegies 20 My soule is sad indeed 't is truest moane When the poore Orphane sits and grieves alone Alone said I ah me I need not we Have thousand spirits more in misery Whose burdened sorrowes overwhelme their kind What are our words alas they are but wind Only remembring mine afflictions they Shall humble me in this my cloudy day 21 The Malefactour smiles to thinke on favour From the sterne Judge Sinners have a Saviour Yet they are alwaies angry and cast downe As if their glory were in earths base Crowne A Crown what if thou hast a Crown earths glory Is various vaine false and transitory Considering this sad heart thou hast good scope To rest thy tired selfe and live in hope 22 I cannot hold my heart must needs confesse Be witnesse endlesse love judgements were lesse Then our transgressions when they cried aloud To the high heavens and earths darkned cloud Lookt angry at our solly oh if thou Shouldst blast us into nothing even now Our soules should justifie thee ' cause poore we Know heaven lov'd us from eternity 23 As oft as Phoebus lights the darkned skies With mourning raies dazling all mortals eyes With fulnesse of his glory Writers say A blushing Evening brings a Sun-shine day Even thus our Sun spreads-forth Caelestiall wings Of brightest glory and away he flings Those hasty mists of darknesse which infold The tried Silver and corrupts the Gold 24 But Heaven is my Soules portion and my part Filling the vastnesse of my Soule my heart Cannot containe the treasure of this wealth 'T is sick of Love and yet in perfect health Glory and honour doth attend the man With highest joy that hath this Dowrie can There be a lack though Famine be so neere Feare darkneth Faith and Faith destroyeth Feare 25 The tyred Traveller in Summer dayes Seekes for some cooling shade to keepe the rayes Of hot Apollo from his fainting head When flaming Phoebus and his firie Steeds Are in their high Careere the Dog-starre flyes Barking with heat through Heavens Canopie Christ is this cooling shade his Kingly mind Rewards the worker he that seekes shall find 26 Thrice happy Traveller that
this journey made To seeke a shelter in this pleasant shade What greater portion on the Earth then this And in the Heavens what higher Paradise Mortals y' are cousen'd worldly Wit and Strength Pride and Vaine-glory failes poore man at length Where then is sure protection from all harmes I le tell thee where 't is in th' Almighties armes 27 The Warlick Horse whom Nature doth bedeek With strength and vigour and his thundring neck Is drest with youth and fortitude his eye Sends furious summons to the enemie While strength is in his loynes his courage can Breathe out defiance to the armed man 'T is good in youth to taste afflictions losse He that wil weare the Crown must bear the Crosse 28 Canst thou be silent when thy God is neere Canst thou be sad and hast no cause of feare Canst thou be dazled with thy sinnes reflection Canst thou be fearfull when thou hast protection Why dost thou mourne for Sions miserie Pride was the Prologue to her Tragedie Rather then murmure for deserved ill Close thy lips ever Soule be silent still 29 A Child of Heaven early doth begin To honour vertue and to trample sin Under his carelesse feet his scornefull eye Takes but slight notice of Earths vanitie Sweet-fac'd Humilitie is Honours Mother He that hath one will quickly have the other They both are matcht with Glory happy he That comes to Honour by Humilitie 30 Is it such honour to be humble then Are mourning mortals most the happiest men Where lyes their glory sayes the world for we See no such honour in humilitie Th' are ' tyr'd with rags and they are fed with feares Reproaches scandals and the peoples jeeres And is this honour yea and this story Is the Saints evidence for highest glory 31 Time darkeneth the Skyes Time brings the Day Time glads the eyes Time puffes all joy away Time builds a Kingdome Time o'rthrows a Nation Time writes a storie of their desolation Time hath a time when Time shall be no more Time makes some rich and Time makes rich men poore Time is when God will be his Churches friend When Times eternitie shall never end 32 For though fond man thou taste afflictions sorrow This gloomie ev'ning joy will come to morrow Indeed a night or two thy sorrowes may Eclipse thy glory but a shining day Will soone appeare to glad thy longing eyes Like shining Phoebus in the blushing Skyes Man shall finde mercie sinners may intrude To rest their soules in mercies multitude 33 The chafing Horse breaks through th'armed Ranks With his proud Rider and his bleeding flanks Are witnesses of haste his courage brave At last is cool'd and measureth out his grave Upon the bloudie earth thus we begin Rid by vain-glory and spurr'd on with sin To break Heav'ns high Command so Death is just Our pride and honour lyeth in the dust 34 And yet his blessings are farre more then blowes Men use to trample downe their conquer'd foes Under their Horses fetlocks few will give Their wounded enemie an houre to live Yet Israels God whose high victorious hand Can crush the sinfull pris'ners of the Land Into a piece of nothing still his strife Is but to give dead man eternall life 35 Have we a Right to these Terrestriall Toyes And yet a Title to Celestiall Joyes This is on Earth and that above the Skies The first the Promise and the last the Prize He that hath this will quickly have the last Glory comes posting when our griese is past If God denie us not this Earthly Ball He 'll give us Heaven which is best of all 36 He takes no pleasure when he doth subvert The Cause of man nor doth it glad his heart To over-turne a mortall in his pride He takes no glory for to blow aside The prosp'rous state of man it is his badnesse That brings him miserie when he may have gladnesse If sinne brings sorrow then and blindnesse blowes Blame thy bad deeds O man they are thy foes 37 What King can clip the flying wings of Time With all his Majestie Although he climbe Unto the top of Honour can his Power Stay swift-foot Phoebus chafing Steeds an houre To wait upon him Or what Prince can say I le bring to passe my purpose the next day Unlesse the Lord command these earthly things The least is higher then the reach of Kings 38 The world shall passe away and all therein Shall be no more as if they had not bin As if they never were they all shall fade They all were moving since they first were made Each word of God is good and there 's no Clause Of threatning ruine in those righteous Lawes To him that keeps those blest Commands for he Reward shall have unto eternitie 39 Why weep'st thou then O man why doth thine eyes Implore reliefe with watrie obsequies Why dost thou teach thy heavie heart to mourne In silent corners why dost thou adorne Thy Soule in sable weeds why dost thou dresse Thy selfe in sorrow woe and heavinesse Oh why complainest thou it is thy sin Barres out thy joy and bringeth judgements in 40 Search ev'ry corner of thy selfe sad Soule Trie all thy actions let not darknesse roule Thee in her lulling armes but now imbrace The glorious purchase of Heavens proffred grace Yet mourning Soule returne yet sinner wake From thy securitie goe hie thee take Thy well-prepared vension Heaven will stay And double blesse thee ere he part away 41 The Sunne being set all mortals goe to rest Our sorrow rises then each soule 's possest With feare and horror and each man complaines Of mightie losses and of little gaines We lift our hands to Heaven sometimes for aid We cast our eyes up when we are afraid But when doe Hearts and Hands and Eyes agree With Faith and Love Truth and Sinceritie 42 Oh Sinne my fatall Foe how bad is gaine Contracted from thee pleasure is but paine How false is sinners joy their Mines are mosse Their worke is toylesome yet their labour's losse Their blossome's blasted with a minutes breath Their light is darknesse and their life is death Sinne doth destroy the glorious Soule for why The Soule that sinneth shall be sure to die 43 Ah me how quickly doth this house of man Decay his wayes are like a feathred fan Which wav'reth with the wind his strength prime Is wondrous weake and his swift-posting time Is very short though sometimes he be high Like a tall Cedar which doth dare the Skie And swelleth in his pride a little Rub Of ficknesse makes the Cedar but a Shrub 44 Where shall we hide us is there ne'r a mountaine To o'r-shadow us or a pleasant fountaine For tyred Soules to bathe in while the Cloud Of Thunder is blowne over may we shroud Our Soules in no protection while our teares Shall wash our bosomes and invite the eares Of Heav'n to listen that our cryes may be Lodg'd in the Palace of Eternitie 45 Th'glory is departed Israels Land is taken Judah's
of good is glory and the hire Of Satans instruments is endlesse fire His worke being done on Earth he shall commence In never dying flames Hels recompence Strike them with dreadfull thunder Lord and flashes Of fearefull Lightning lay on thy lashes Upon their naked shoulders let them see Thy wrath pursues them to eternitie 65 And since they would thy Precepts disannull Lord make them stupid let their braines be dull Let them not see where Truth and Error lyes Give them a deafned care and blinded eyes Give them a sinking soule that may soone faint Make it erroneous hard and obstinant O make their memory loath'd when they shall vade From the worlds prospect like an evening shade 66 Three Acts are past along our bloudie Stage And there is two to come our mournfull Age Is a sad president to all eyes O may Our enemies fall fill up the following Play Now let our enemies act their dismall part Let each foe strike his fellow to the heart So let them dye Lord blast them let them be The Epilogue of our sad Tragedie CONTEMPLATION III. WHat meanes the Joy that Worldlings take on Earth Triumphing in false Glory and vaine Mirth Why are their faces drest with flourisht smiles Of joviall merriment and yet the whiles Their soules doe sinke with sorrow Can they beare The checks of Conscience with so little care What is the Soule asleepe while mortals act Their merry Comedies while they contract Guilt on th' accused Conscience while they lye Rockt in securitie with this Lullaby What meanes the prosp'rous pompe of such a Blade Whose earthly honour may a while perswade The world there is no God the sinners state Doth alway flourish and is fortunate Hee 's deckt with antick Robes of the best fashion He blasphemes Heav'n in each Recreation Looke on the wretch he hath all earthly glories Brave Buildings stately Works Heroick Stories Wrought with laborious Needles where the hand Of curious Art doth give a countermand To the worlds ignorance while Natures eye In looking prayseth Ingenuitie He hath both wealth and wit a warlike arme That 's strong and valiant oft in offring harme High honour great advancement prayse of men And love of Ladies which are offred when The man is full of Money thus he walkes In his vain-glory and he alwayes talkes Of great affaires his Honour doth defie To tell the Truth and yet he hates the Lie Should be returned on him while his face Is a red embleme of sinnes black disgrace Vile wretch how safe thou art while Conscience she Doth lye intombed in obscuritie There is a time for flames or else for feares A time for torments or a time for teares Retire into thy Closet take thy Pen Goe muse on the mortalitie of men Write the disasters that attend the Crowne Of earthly Royaltie goe thou wretch sit downe In thy retired Chamber halfe a day Let Conscience speak and Conscience thus wil say Ah man obdurate man why wast thou borne Into the world or why did Heav'n adorne Thy Soule with immortalitie why did Love Whose rare transcendencie is farre above The worlds desert or reason ever stretch Those sweet imbraces to so vile a wretch To so deform'd a wretch as thou O piece of Clay Didst thou deserve it blinded sinner say What canst thou answer me proud mortall why Thou shouldst not have thy judgement now to die What art thou feeble Earth a little dust What 's Beauties blossome it will quickly rust What is this spacious Universe but a Theame What is mans dignitie but an idle Dreame What is thy wealth a weather-cock of woe And what is honour but mans overthrow And what are all thy friends they passe away Like short-liv'd Actors in a Tragick Play Friends wealth wit honour beautie have no power To save thee from the King of feares one houre Bid now farewell unto those houres whose strife With thriftlesse joy hath spun a wearie life A life of vanitie whose very name Masketh the ornaments of Vertues fame Yet dearest soule returne yet hearke to me Yet be thou mindfull of eternitie Yet heare poore Conscience speak since time almost Hath run his swift-foot houres and thou art lost Did I say lost Ah Soule th' rt happie then If Earth could hide thee in her darkned Den If thou wert lost indeed from Heav'ns bright eye If Death could shade thee in obscuritie If Earth and Sea and Hell and Death should winde thee In their dark shadows yet thy Judge would finde thee And then Oh then the sinner being found How will the eyes of the Almightie wound Thy now condemned Soule while thou before The high Tribunall howling shalt implore Some Rock to over-shadow thee yet deny'd That slender shelter how wilt thou abide Before the dreadfull Throne from whence shall come Thy damned Sentence of eternall Doome And is this all No then thou shalt retire To never-quenched flames of furious fire Whose everlasting fuell shall extend To all eternitie and never end In Hells darke hideous and hollow Vaule Where soules converse with fiends for ev'ry fault There is a sev'rall plague Gluttons are fed With scalding Lead and Brimstone and the dead Besotted Drunkard as he ev'ry day Drunke Healths to Hell to passe the time away So in eternall torment endlesse toyle His throat is washt with quaffes of burning oyle The stubborn Child the wrathfull Furies hold with long-tormenting lashes Th'Usurer drinks whole Draughts of molten Gold And there the cruell Murtherer doth lye Alwayes a stabbing yet can never dye There lyes the Wanton who Loves fire did feele Stretcht upon tort'ring racks of burning Steele Heat by eternall flames blowne with the breaths Of thousand thousands never-dying deaths Then dearest Soule repent 't is not too late To beg for mercie that most glorious Gate Is seldome shut come spend thy after-yeares If thou hast any in repenting teares In true repenting teares bathe oft thy brest Let not thy slumber lull thee to thy rest Till thou hast got a pardon dost thou know How highly glorious is th' overthrow Of Sinne and Death and Hell what royall favour Is in the lovely eyes of such a Saviour What chast imbraces and what sweet communion What rare discoveries what ravisht union What present providence from Earths annoyes What after-evidence of endlesse joyes What wise directions through threatning harmes What safe protections in th' Almightie Armes Of such a blessed Saviour whose sweet b … Gives health in sicknesse and a life in death And this would change thee sinner this ev'n this Would turne thy Closet to a Paradise This sweet Repentance would adorne thy face With Heavens amours and with blushing grace For thy fore-past Rebellion this would give A learned President how thou mightst live To reigne in endlesse glory this would trie If thou dost live before thou com'st to die Reade this third Chapter mark but who they be That Heaven exposeth to calamitie The Prophet here cryes out I am the man Whose back is gall'd with
is deformitie their power Is weake and in few waste and flying houres The hope of Earths eternitie's cut off The Land is lost the Kingdome is a scoffe To the wide Universe their Comedie Is metamorphos'd to a Tragedie Their highest dignitie is disregarded Their wisdome slighted honour unrewarded What Nation fought with greater braverie Then warlike Isr'el which their foes slaverie Could often manisest what Valour might Be matcht to theirs while in each bloudie fight Each long'd to be the formost to inga … A troupe of Lyons in their rampant rage Was a poore sigure of their noble hearts While Heav'n was darkned with those numerous darts That flew along the Ayre backt with the breath Of Furie and each Arrow ript with Death There might you heare the wounded Heathen crie To their false gods while that the blashing Skie Did eccho their implorement th' Earth being hid With heaps of murthred Heathens here a head Lyes tumbling while the base unwor thy braine Is found too foolish to be knit againe Unto the for lorne shoulders or complie In any Plot or trecherous Villanie Not farre from that there lyes a Hand and Arme With signes of peace too feeble for a harme Against poore Sion there a Leg doth lye Which should have serv'd his Master for to flye To some strong Rock of Resuge now the day Hath crost his speed he cannot run away There was brave Gallantry in Israels eye Each strove with honour who the first should dye Fighting on heapes of their bemang led foes They made renowne to wait upon their blowes Where in the Clouds of Darts with winged speed Death gallop'd through the Armies with a Reed To measure out the Graves of them which hee Had sent to wander to eternitie Thus valiant Israel who now doth yield Hath slaine their threescore thousand in a field While Heav'n did ead them then high Isr'els name Rode on the wings of everlasting faâ—…e The Starres did light in order and the Moone Stood still and in the 〈◊〉 height of Noone Swâ—ft Phoebus did his 〈◊〉 Horses stay From t … Careere and length'â—ed out the day To see those games of Death p … y'd where each blow Fore-told the enemie of his ov … hrâ—w But where 's that Valour nâ—w that Royaltie So quickly turn'd into 〈◊〉 What slav'd themselves 〈…〉 serve ev'n them Which once were servants to Jerusalem What must their Crowne be vail'd must they goe downe While Heathens arch their temples with their Crowne ' Are they subdued by the Conquered And must the blind man by the blind be led If this be true this Motto then makes knowne Thy power was Heavens Sion not thine owne And hadst thou been obedient to his will Thy warlike arme might have subdued still Those thy unconquer'd foes then like a Bride Heaven would have guarded lov'd and dignifi'd His owne peculiar people then his Arme Would have imbrac'd thee and have banisht harme From these thy ruin'd Borders then his Eye Had lov'd thee with Celestiall jealousie Ah holy Land if thou wert ruin'd thus How shall we fare what shall become of us If thou wert smitten as the Prophets pen Doth manifest we monumonts of men Drunke with the wine of solly how shall we Escape from a more dolesome Tragedie I often reade Israel was of one minde But Englands wayes are wav'ring like the winde Israel was circumspect and serious But England blinde unconstant various Their Armies fought like one one armed man We numerous multitudes of Divisions can We looke for peace in this distracted mould Not knowing who to helpe nor where to hold The Citizens implore the Armies may Disband the valiant Souldier askes his pay Ere he layes downe some foolish fellowes fling Libels abroad of Loyaltie to the King But it is false alas their wicked aime Is to involve the Citie in a flame A fourth Contriver with his shallow crowne Holds best to pull the two Assemblyes downe He rayles against the Peeres and Commons too Reviles them all yet cannot tell you who It is that doth disturbe him others chat Against Divines yet cannot tell for what Another he would have new Members chose And yet he knowes no ill by none of those The rest would have a new Militia hold Yet can they finde no fault against the old Thus in their various mindes and mutinies The people fall to Contrarieties The poore would have Meat at a lower rate But that the Farmers and the Butchers hate Should ever take effect some thinke that Beere Is brew'd too small and that 't is sold too deere But him the Victualler doth soone advise To be content because they pay Excise Another sayes did not the rich men sweepe Up all the Cloth Clothes would be better cheape And him the Clothier presently perswades Wer 't not for these they could not keepe their Trades The Courtier he doth out of zeale defie The Parliament sweares he 's for 's Majestie One cryes him up another cryes him downe A third would have the Prince to wear the Crowne A fourth will none of that sayes 't is a thing Not needfull that there should be any King The Separate rayles at all the Priests attendants The Presbyterian checks the Independants Alas sayes one how could we ever looke For better times since that the holy Booke Of Common Prayer went down then those that went But for a Token had the Sacrament What are we wiser then our Fathers they Without the Service-Booke would never pray But now this fellow 's silenc'd by another That thinks he 's somewhat wiser then the other Quoth he what diff'rence 'twixt the Church and Stable The Service-Booke was most abominable A Librarie sent from Rome wherein was 't rare They pray'd for foule weather when we should have faire And why is humane Learning thus affected The Seribes and Pharises they were neglected By our deare Saviour he cast lovely eyes Upon the simple and refus'd the wise And thus good Reader there is no confusion Like that which hath such strong delusion Of liking and disliking some disprayse The man whom others would have Fortune rayse To high preferment Ah what hath our Lands But double tongues false hearts divided hands And a distracted braine a poys'nous breath Of Envie and a life expecting death Or death in midst of life oh why are wee The onely Monuments of Miserie Most blessed Faith and Love you never varie From your first blessednesse nor act contrarie Unto your blessed Natures from above Love dotes on Faith and Faith ingendreth Love O glorious God thy Saints ne'r disagree In Heav'n when they possesse high dignitie Loves Banner is display'd about thy Throne Thy holy Angels are no more then one But man oh that wretch man is like th' Ocean Who now is calme and hath a gentle motion And in a moment makes his billowes runne Aloft and shoots his surges at the Sunne And since Divisions to destructions tend What followes ruin'd England but her end Cease then oh England from this