patience of so strong a foe To bring these evils and worke their overthrow To him they haste and with resolv'd desire Of bloud they burne his house him with fire Meditat. 15. DOst thou not tremble does thy troubled care Not tingle nor thy spirits faint to heare The voice of those whose dying shriekes proclaime Their tortures that are broyling in the flame She whose illustrious beautie did not know Where to be matcht but one poore houre agoe She whose faire eyes were apt to make man erre From his knowne faith and turne Idolater She whose faire cheeks inricht with true complexion Seem'd Beauties store-house of her best perfection See how she lies see how this beautie lies A foule offence unto thy loathing eyes A fleshly Cinder lying on the floore Starke naked had it not beene covered ore With bashfull ruines which were fallen downe From the consumed roofe and rudely throwne On this halfe roasted earth O canst thou reade Her double storie and thy heart not bleed What art thou more than she Tell me wherein Art thou more priviledg'd Or can thy sinne Plead more t' excuse it Art thou faire and young Why so was she Were thy temptations strong Why so were hers What canst thou plead but she Had power to plead the same as well as thee Nor was 't her death alone could satisfie Revenge her father and his house must die Vnpunisht crimes doe often bring them in That were no lesse than strangers to the sinne Ely must die because his faire reproofe Of too foule sinne was not austere enough Was vengeance now appeas'd Hath not the crime Paid a sufficient Intrest for the time Remove thine eye to the Philistian fields See what increase their fruitfull harvest yeelds There 's nothing there but a confused heape Of ruinous Ashes There 's no corne to reape Behold the poyson of unpunisht sinne For which the very earth 's accurst againe Famine must act her part her griping hand For one mans sinne must punish all the land Is vengeance now appeas'd Hath sinne given ore To cry for plagues Must vengeance yet have more O now th' impartiall sword must come and spill The bloud of such as famine could not kill The language of unpunisht sinne cryes loud It roares for Iustice and it must have bloud Famine must follow where the fire begun The sword must end what both have left undone Iust God! our sinnes doe dare thee to thy face Our score is great our Ephah fills apace The leaden cover threatens every minut To close the Ephah and our sinnes within it Turne back thine eye Let not thine eye behold Such vile pollutions Let thy vengeance hold Looke on thy dying Sonne there shalt thou spie 〈◊〉 object that 's more fitter for thine eye 〈◊〉 sufferings Lord are farre above our finnes 〈◊〉 looke thou there Ere Iustice once begins â—T ' unsheath her sword O let one precious drop Fall from that pierced side and that will stop The eares of vengeance from that clamorous voice Of our loud sinnes which make so great a noise O send that drop before Revenge begins And that will crie farre louder than our sinnes THE ARGVMENT He makes a slaughter Doth remove To Etans rocke where to repay him The wrongs that he had done they move The men of Iudah to betray him Sect. 16. THus when th'accurs'd Philistians had appaid The Timnies sinne with ruine and betraid Th'unjust Offenders to their fierce desire And burn'd their cursed Family with fire 〈◊〉 the greatnesse of whose debt deni'd So short a payment and whose wrongs yet crideâ— For further vengeance to be further laid Vpon the sinne-conniving Nation said Vnjust Philistians you that could behold 〈◊〉 a crime and yet with-hold 〈◊〉 well deserved punishment so long 〈◊〉 made you partners in their sinne my wrong Had yee at first when as the fault was young Before that Time had lent her clamorous tongue So great a strength to call for so much bloud O hid your earlie Iustice but thought good To strike in time nay had you then devis'd Some easier punishment it had suffic'd But now it comes too late The sinne has cryed Till heaven hath heard and mercy is denied Nay had the sinne but spâ—r'd to roare so loud A drop had serv'd when now a Tide of bloud Will hardly stop her mouth Had ye done this betimes But now this hand Must plague your persons and afflict your land Have ye beheld a youth-instructing Tutor Whose wisdome's seldome seene but in the future When well deserved punishment shall call For the delinquent Boy how first of all He preaches fairely then proceeds austerer To the foule crime whilst the suspitious hearer Trembles at every word untill at length His language being ceas'd th' unwelcome strength Of his rude arme that often proves too rash Strikes home and fetches bloud at every lash Even so stout Samson whose more gentle tongue In easie tearmes doth first declare tho wrong Injustice did then tells the evill effects That mans connivence and unjust neglects Does often bring upon th' afflicted land But at the last upheaves his ruthlesse hand He hewes he hacks and furie being guide His unresisted power doth divide From top to toe his furious weapon cleft Where ere it strucke It slue and never left Vntill his flesh-destroying arme at length Could finde no subject where t' imploy his strength Here stands a head-strong Steed whose fainting guider Drops down another drags his wounded rider Now here now there his franticke arme would thunder And at one stroake cleaves horse man in sunder In whose mixt bloud his hands would oft embrue And where so ere they did but touch they slew Here 's no imployment for the Surgeons trade All wounds were mortall that his weapon made There 's none was left but dying or else dead And onely they that scap'd his fury fled The slaughter ended the proud victor past Through the afflicted land untill at last He comes to Iudah where he pitcht his tent At the rocke Etan There some time he spent He spent not much till the Philistian band That found small comfort in their wasted land Came up to Iudah and there pitch'd not farre From Samsons tent their hands were arm'd to warre With that the men of Iudah strucke with feare To see so great an Armie straite drew neere To the sad Campe who after they had made Some signes of a continued peace they said What new designes have brought your royall band 〈◊〉 the borders of our peacefull land 〈◊〉 strange adventures What disastrous weather 〈◊〉 you this way What businesse brought you hether 〈◊〉 my Lords be angry or conceive 〈◊〉 evill against your Servants What we have 〈◊〉 The peacefull plentie of our land 〈◊〉 we are yours and at your owne command 〈◊〉 to what purpose are you pleas'd to shew us 〈◊〉 strength Why bring you thus an Army to us 〈…〉 our yearly tributes justly paid Have we not kept our vowes have we delaid Our faithfull
it Eyes â—ands and armes tongues eares and hearts of men Sing praise and let the people say Amen ¶ Tune you your Instruments and let them vary Praise him upon them in his Sanctuary Praise him within the highest Firmament Which shewes his Power and his Government Praise him for all his mighty Acts are knowne And suit thy praises to his high Renowne Praise him with Trump victorious shrill sharpe With Psaltry lowd and many-stringed Harpe With sounding Timbrell and the warbling Flute With Musicks full Interpreter the Lute Praise him upon the Maiden Virginalls Vpon the Clerick Organs and Cymballs Vpon the sweet Majestick Vyalls touch Double your joyes and let your prayse be such Let all in whom is life and breath give praise To heav'ns eternall God in endlesse dayes Let every Soule to whom a voyce is given Sing Holy Holy Holy Lord of Heaven For loe a Lambe is found that undertooke To break the seven-fold-Seale ope the BOOK◠¶ O let my life adde number to my dayes To shew thy glory and to sing thy praise Let every minute in thy praise be spent Let every head be bare and knee be bent To thee deare Lambe Who ere thy praises hide Clos'd be his Lippes and tongue for ever ty'de Hallelujah Gloria DEO in excelsis ELEVEN PIOVS Meditations 1. ¶ WIthin the holy Legend I discover Three speciall Attributes of God his Power His Iustice and his Mercy All uncreated Eternall all and all unseparated From Gods pure Essence and from thence proceeding All very God All perfect All exceeding And from that selfe-same text three names I gather Of great lehova Lord and God and Father The first denotes him mounted on his Throne In Power Majesty Dominion The second shewes him on his kingly Bench Rewarding Evill with equall punishments The third describes him on his Mercy-seat Full great in Grace and in his Mercy great ¶ All three I worship and before all three My heart shall humbly prostrate with my knee But in my private choice I fancy rather Then call him Lord or God to call him Father 2. ¶ IN hell no Life in heaven no Death there is In earth both Life and Death both Bale and Blis In Heaven 's all Life no end nor new supplying In hell 's all Death and yet there is no dying Earth like a partiall Ambidexter doth Prepare for Death or Life prepares for both Who lives to sinne in Hell his portion 's given Who dyes to sinne shall after live in Heaven ¶ Though Earth my Nurse be Heaven bee thou my Father Ten thousand deaths let me endure rather Within my Nurses armes then One to Thee Earths honour with thy frownes is death to mee I live on Earth as on a Stage of sorrow Lord if thou pleasest end the Play to morrow I live on Earth as in a Dreame of pleasure Awake me when thou wilt I wait thy leisure I live on Earth but as of life bereaven My life 's with thee for Lord thou art in Heaven 3. NOthing that e'r was made was made for nothing Beasts for thy food their skins were for thy clothing Flowers for thy smell and â—earbs for Cure good Trees for thy shade Their Fruit for pleasing Food The showers fall upon the fruitfull ground Whose kindly Dew makes tender Grasse abound The Grasse springs forth for beasts to feed upon And Beasts are food for Man but Man alone Is made to serve his Lord in all his wayes And be the Trumpet of his Makers praise ¶ Let Heav'n be then to me obdure as brasse The Earth as iron unapt for graine or grasse Then let my Flocks consume and never steed mee Let pinching Famine want wherewith to feed mee When I forget to honour thee my Lord Thy glorious Attributes thy Workes thy Word O let the Trump of thine eternall Fame Teach us to answer Hallow'd be thy Name 4. ¶ GOd built the World and all that therein is He framed yet how poore a part is his Quarter the Earth and see how small a rome Is stiled with the name of Christeâ— dome The rest through blinded ignorance rebels O're-runne with Pagans Turkes and Infidels Nor yet is all this little quarter his For though all know him halfe know him amisse Professing Chrâ—â—â— for lucre as they lâ—st And serve the triple Crowne of Anâ—â—â—hrist Yet is this little handfull much made lesser There 's many Lâ—â—ertines for one Prâ—fessour Nor doe Professours all professe aright ' Mong ' whom there often lurks an Hypocrite ¶ O where and what 's thy Kingdome blessed God Where is thy Scepter where 's thine iron Rod Reduce thy reck'nings to their totall summe O let thy Power and thy kingdome come 5. ¶ MAN in himselfe 's a little World Alone His Soul 's the Court or high Imperiall throne Wherein as Empresse sits the Vnderstanâ—ing Gently directing yet with awe Commanding Her Handmaid's will Affections Maids of Honour All following close and duely waiting on her But Sin that alwayes envi'd mans Condition Within this Kingdome raised up Division Withdrawne the Will and brib'd the false Affection That This no order hath nor That Election The Will proves Traitor to the Vnderstanding Reason hath lost her power and left commanding She 's quite depos'd and put to foule disgrace And Tyrant Passion now usurps her place ¶ Vouchsafe Lord in this little World of mine To raigne that I may raigne with Thee in thine And since my Will is quite of good bereaven Thy will be done in earth as 't is in Heaven 6 ¶ WHo live to sin are all but theeves to hearÌ„ And Earth They steale froÌ„ God take ungiveÌ„ Good men they rob such as live upright And being bastards share the freemans Right They 're all as owners in the owners stead And like to Dogs devoure the childrens bread They have and lacke and want that they possesse Vnhappy most in their most happinesse They are not goods but riches that they wast And not beâ—ng goods to ev'ls they turne at last ¶ Lord what I have let me enjoy in thee And thee in it or else take it from mee My store or want make thou or fade or flourish So shall my comforts neither change nor perish That little I enjoy Lord make it mine In making mee that am a Sinner thine 'T is thou or none that shall supply my need Great God Give us this day our daily bread 7. ¶ THe quick conceited Schoole-men doe approve A difference 'twixt Charity and Love Love is a vertue whereby we explaine Our selves to God and God to us againe But Charitie 's imparted to our Brother Whereby we trafficke one man with another The first extends to God The last belongs To Man in giving right and bearing wrongs In number they are twaine In vertue one For one not truely being t' other's none ¶ In loving God if I neglect my Neighbour My love hath lost his proofe and I my labour My Zeale my Faith my Hope that never failes me If
and the painfull prize Of their sweet labour in the hollow Chest Of the dead Lyon whose unbowell'd brest Became their plenteous storehouse where they laid The blest encrease of their laborious Trade The fleshly Hive was fill'd with curious Combes Within whose dainty waxe-divided roomes Were shops of honey whose delicious taste Did sweetly recompence th'adjourned haste Of lingring Samson who does now repay The time he borrow'd from his better way And with renewed speed and pleasure flies Where all his soule-delighting treasure lies He goes to Timnah where his heart doth finde A greater sweetnesse than he left behinde His hasty hands invites her gladder eyes To see and lips to taste that obvious prize His interrupted stay had lately tooke And as shee tasted his fixt eyes would looke Vpon her varnisht lips and there discover A sweeter sweetnesse to content a Lover And now the busie Virgins are preparing Their costly Iewels for the next dayes wearing Each lappe is sill'd with Flowers to compose The nuptiall Girland for the Brides faire browes The costâ—neglecting Cookes have now encreast Their pastry dainties to adorne the feast Each willing hand is labring to provide The needfull ornaments to deck the Bride But now the crafty Philistins for feare Lest Samsons strength which startled every eare With dread and wâ—nder under that pretence Should gaine the meanes to offer violence And through the shew of nuptiall devotion Should take advantages to breed commotion Or lest his popular power by coaction Or faire entreats may gather to his faction Some loose and discontented men of theirs And so betray them to supected feares They therefore to prevent ensuing harmes Gave strict command that thirty men of armes Vnder the maâ—ke of Bridemen should attend Vntill the nuptiall ceremonies end Meditat. 9. HOw high unutterable how profound Whose depth the line of knowledge cannot sound Are the deerces of the Eternall God! How secret are his wayes and how untrod By mans conceipt so deeply charg'd with doubt How are his Counsels past our finding out O how unscrutable are his designes How deepe and how unsearchable are the Mines Of his abundant Wisdome how obscure And his eternall Iudgements and how sure Lists he to strike the very Stones shall flie From their unmov'd Foundations and destroy Lists he to punish Things that have no sense Shall vindicate his Quarrell on th' Offence Lists he to send a plague The winters heate And summers damp shall make his will compleate Lists he to send the Sword Occasion brings New Iealousies betwixt the hearts of Kings Wills he a famine Heaven shall turne to brasse And earth to Iron till it come to passe Both stocks and stones and plants and beasts fulfil The secret Counsell of his sacred will Man onely wretched Man is disagreeing To doe that thing for which he had his being Samson must downe to Timnah in the way Must meet a Lyon whom his hands must slay The Lyons putrid Carkas must enclose A swarme of Bees and from the Bees arose A Riddle and that Riddle must be read And by the reading Choller must be bred And that must bring to passe Gods just designes Vpon the death of the false Philistines Behold the progresse and the royall Gests Of Heavens high vengeance how it never rests Till by appointed courses it fulfill The secret pleasure of his sacred will Great Savior of the world Thou Lambe of Sion That hides our sinnes That art the wounded Lyon O in thy dying body we have found A world of hony whence we may propound Such sacred Riddles as shall underneath Our feet subdue the power of Hell and Death Such Mysteries as none but he that plough'd With thy sweet Hayfer's able to uncloud Such sacred Mysteries whose eternall praise Shall make both Angels and Archangels raise Their louder voyces and in triumph sing All Glory and Honour to our highest King And to the Lambe that sits upon the throne Worthy of power and praise is he alone Whose glory hath advanc'd our key of mirth Glory to God on high and peace on Earth THE ARGVMENT The Bridegroome at his nuptiall Feast to the Philistians doth propound A Riddle which they all addrest themselves in counsell to expound Sect. 10. NOw when the glory of the next dayes light Had chas'd the shadowes of the tedious night 〈◊〉 coupling Hymen with his nuptiall bands 〈◊〉 gâ—lden Fetters had conjoyn'd their hands 〈◊〉 jolly welcome had to every Guest â—â—pos'd the bounty of the mariage Feast 〈◊〉 now appeased stomacks did enlarge 〈◊〉 captive tongues with power to discharge 〈◊〉 quit their Table-duty and disburse 〈◊〉 store of enterchangeable discourse 〈◊〉 â—â—genious Bridegroome turn'd his rolling eyes 〈◊〉 his guard of Bridemen and applies â—â—â—peech to them And whil'st that every man 〈◊〉 his attentive eare he thus began My tâ—ngue's in labour and my thoughts abound 〈◊〉 a doubtfull Riddle to propound 〈◊〉 if your joyned wisdomes can discover 〈◊〉 our seven dayes feasting be past over 〈◊〉 thirty Sheets and thirty new supplies â—â—â—â—â—â—ment shall be your deserved prize 〈◊〉 be seven dayes feast shall be dissolv'd 〈◊〉 darkned Riddle be resolv'd Ye shall be all engaged to resigne The like to me the vict'rie being mine So said the Bridemen whose exchanged eyes Found secret hopes of conquest thus replies Propound thy Riddle Let thy tongue dispatch Her cloudy errand We accept the match With that the hopefull Challenger convai'd His Riddle to their hearkning eares and said The Riddle Our food in plenty doth proceed from him that us'd to eate And he whose custome was to feed does now afford as meate A thing that I did lately meet as I did passe along Afforded me a dainty sweet yet was both sharpe and strong The doubtful Riddle being thus propounded They muse the more they mus'd the more coÌ„founded One rounds his whispring neighbour in the eare Whose lab'ring lips deny him leave to heare Another trusting rather to his owne Conceit sits musing by himselfe alone Here two are closely whispring till a third Comes in nor to the purpose speakes a word There sits two more and they cannot agree How rich the clothes how fine the Sheets must be Yonder stands one that musing smiles no doubt But he is neere it if not found it out To whom another rudely rushes in And puts him quite beside his thought agin 〈◊〉 three are Whispring and a fourths intrusion Spoiles all and puts them all into confusion â—â—re sits another in a Chaire so deepe 〈◊〉 thought that he is nodding fast asleepe The more their busie fancie doe endever The more they erre Now farther off than ever 〈◊〉 when their wits spur'd on with sharpe desire Had lost their breath and now began to tire They ceas'd to tempt conceit beyond her strength And weary of their thoughts their thoughts at length Present a new exploit Craft must supply Defects of wit Their hopes must now rely Vpon the frailty of the tender Bride She must be mov'd Perswasions may attaine If not
feares 'T is well But they that doe Attempt to ruine me will ransacke you First you shall firmely engage your plighted trâ—th By the acceptance of a sacred â—ath That when I shall be pris'ner to your bands I may not suffer violence by your hands With that they drawing nearer to him laid Their hands beneath his brawny thigh and said Then let the God of Iacob cease to blesse The tribe of Iudah with a faire successe In ought they put their cursed hand unto And raze their seed If we attempt to doe Bound Samson violence And if this curse Be not sufficient heaven contrive a worse With that the willing prisoner joyn'd his hands To he subjected to their stronger bands With treble twisted cords that never tried The twitch of strength their busie fingers tied His sinewy wrists which being often wound About his beating pulse they brought him bound To the forefront of the Philistian band And left him captive in their cursed hand Meditat. 17. O What a pearle is hidden in this field Whose orient luster and perfections yeeld So great a treasure that the Easterne Kings With all the wealth their colder Climate brings Nere saw the like It is a pearle whose glory Is the diviner subject of a story Pend by an Angels quill not understood By the too dull conceit of flesh and bloud Vnkinde Iudeans what have you presented Before your eyes O what have you attented He that was borne on purpose to release His life for yours to bring your Nation peace To turne your mournings into joyfull Songs To fight your Battells to revenge your wrongs Even him alas your cursed hands have made This day your prisoner Him have you betraid To death O he whose snowy arme had power To crush you all to nothing and to shower Downe strokes like thunderbolts whose blasting breath Might in a moment puft you all to death And made ye fall before his frowning Brow See how he goes away betraid by you Thou great Redeemer of the world whose bloud Hath power to save more worlds than Noahs floud Destroyed bodies thou O thou that art The Samson of our soules How can the heart Of man give thankes enough that does not know How much his death-redeemed soule does owe To thy deare merits We can apprehend No more than flesh and bloud does recommend To our confined thoughts Alas we can Conceive thy love but as the love of man We cannot tell the horror of that paine Thou bought us from nor can our hearts attaine Those joyes that thou hast purchas'd in our name Nor yet the price thou paidst our thoughts are laÌ„e And craz'd Alas things mortall have no might No meanes to comprehend an Infinite We can behold thee cradled in a Manger In a poore Stable We can see the danger The Tetrarch's fury made thee subject to We can conceive thy poverty We know Thy blessed hands that might bin freed were bouÌ„d We know alas thy bleeding browes were crown'd With pricking thorne Thy body torne with whips Thy palmes impeirc'd with ragged nailes Thy lips Saluted with a Traitors kisse Thy browes Sweating forth bloud Thy oft repeated blowes Thy fastning to the crosse Thy shamefull death These outward tortures all come underneath Our dull conceits But what thy blessed soule That bore the burden of our guilt and Scroule Of all our sinnes and horrid paines of Hell O what that soule endur'd what soule can tell THE ARGVMENT He breakes their bands And with a bone A thousand Philistians he slue Hee thirsted fainted made his moane To Heaven He drinkes his spirits renew Sect. 18. THus when the glad Philistians had obtain'd The summe of all their hopes they entertain'd The welcome pris'ner with a greater noise Of triumph than the greatnesse of their joyes Required Some with sudden death would greet The new come Guest whilst others more discreet With lingring paines and tortures more exact Would force him to discover in the Fact Who his Abettors were others gainsaid That course for feare a rescue may be made â—ome cry ' T is fittest that th' Offender bleed 〈◊〉 where his cursed hands had done the deed Others cryed No where Fortune hath consign'd him Wee 'le kill him Best to kill him where we finde him Thus variously they spent their doubtfull breath At last they all agreed on sudden death There 's no contention now but onely who Shall strike the first or give the speeding blow Have ye beheld a single thred of flax Touch'd by the fire how the fire crackes With ease and parts the slender twine in sunder Even so as the first arme began to thunder Vpon the Prisners life he burst the bands From his strong wrists freed his loosned hands He stoop'd from off the bloud-expecting grasse He snatcht the crooked jaw-bone of an Asse Wherewith his fury dealt such downe-right blowes So oft redoubled that it overthrowes Man after man And being ring'd about With the distracted and amazed rout Of rude Philistians turn'd his body round And in a circle dings them to the ground Each blow had proofe for where the jaw-bone mist The furious Champion wounded with his fist Betwixt them both his fury did uncase A thousand soules which in that fatall place Had left their ruin'd carkeises to feast The flesh-devouring fowle and rav'nous beast With that the Conquerour that now had fed And surfeited his eye upon the dead His hand had slaine sate downe and having flung His purple weapon by triumpht and sung SAmson rejoyce Be fill'd with mirth Let all Iudea know And tell the Princes of the earth How strong an arme hast thou How has thy dead enricht the land And purpled ore the grasse That hadst no weapon in thy hand But the jaw-bone of an Asse How does thy strength and high renowne The glory of men surpasse Thine arme has strucke a thousand downe With the jaw-bone of an Asse Let Samsons glorious name endure Till Time shall render One Whose greater glory shall obscure The glory thou hast wone His song being ended rising from the place Whereon he lay he turn'd his ruthlesse face Vpon those heapes his direfull hand had made And op'ning of his thirsty lips he said Great God of conquest thou by whose command The heart received courage and this hand Strength to revenge thy quarrels and fulfill The secret motion of thy sacred will That shall thy Champion perish now with thirst Thou knowst I have done nothing but what first Was warranted by thy command 'T was thou That gave my spirit boldnesse and my brow A resolution 'T is mine arme did doe No more than what thou didst enjoyne me to And shall I die for thirst O thou that sav'd Me from the Lyons rage that would have rav'd Vpon my life by whom I have subdu'd Thy cursed enemies and have imbru'd My heaven-commanded hands in a spring-tyde Of guilty bloud Lord shall I be denyde A draught of cooling water to allay The tyranny of my thirst I that this day Have
shall flye A lessning pitch to the deceived eye If in her Downy Soreage she but ruffe So strong a Dove may it be thought enough Beare with her Time and Fortune may require Your patient sufferance with a fairer flight The generall Application TO thee Malâ—idâ— now I turne my Quill That God is still that God and will be still The painfull Pastors take up Ionah's roome And thou the Ninivite to whom they coâ—e Medit. 1. HOw great 's the love of God unto his creature Or is his Wisedome or his Mercy greater I know not whether O th'exceeding love Of highest God! that from his Throne above Will send the brightnesse of his grace to those That grope in darknesse and his grace oppose He helpes provides inspires and freely gives As pleas'd to see us ravell out our lives He gives us from the heape He measures not Nor deales like Manna each his stinted lot But daily sends the Doctors of his Spouse With such like oyle as from the Widowes cruse Did issue forth in fulnesse without wasting Where plenty still was had yet plenty lasting I there is â—are in heaven and heavenly sprights That guides the world and guards poore mortall wights There is else were the miserable state Of Man more wretched and unfortunate Than salvage beasts But O th'abounding love Of highest God! whose Angels from above Dismount the Towre of Blisse flye to and fro Assisting wretched Man their deadly foe What thing is Man that Gods regard is such Or why should heaven love rechlesse Man so much Why what are men but quickned lumps of earth A Feast for Wormes a bubble full of mirth A Looking glasse for griefe A flash A minute A painted Toombe with putrifaction in it A mappe of Death A burthen of a song A winters Dust A worme of five foot long Begot in sinne In darknesse nourisht Bornâ— In sorrow Naked Shiftlesse and forlorne His first voice heard is crying for reliefe Alas He comes into a world of griefe His Age is sinfull and his Youth is vaine His Life 's a punishment His Death 's a paine His Life 's a houre of Ioy a world of Sorrow His death 's a winters night that findes no morrow Mans Life 's an Hower-glasse which being run Concludes that houre of joy and so is done Ionah must goe nor is this charge confinde To Ionah but to all the world enjoyn'd You Magistrates arise and take delight In dealing Iustice and maintaining Right There lyes your Niniveh Merchants arise And mingle conscience with your Merchandise Lawyers arise make not your righteous Lawes A tricke for gaine Let Iustice rule the cause Tradesmen arise and plye your thriving shops With truer hands and eate your meate with drops Paul to thy Tents and Peter to thy Net And all must goe that course which God hath set ¶ Great God awake us in these drowsie times Lest vengeance finde us sleeping in our Crymes Encrease succession in thy Prophets liew For loe thy Harvest 's great and workmen few THE ARGVMENT But Ionah toward Tharsis went A Tempest doth his course prevent The Mariners are sore opprest While Ionah sleepes and takes his rest Sect. 2. BVt Ionah thus bethought The City's great And mighty Ashur stands with deadly threat Their hearts are hardued that they cannot heare Will greene wood burne when so unapt's the seire Strange is the charge Shall I goe to a place Vnknowne and forraigne Aye me hard 's the case That righteous Isrâ—el must be thus neglected When Miscreants and Gentiles are respected How might I hope my words shall there succeed Which thrive not with the flockes I daily feed I know my God is gentle and enâ—linde To tender mercy apt to change his minde Vpon the least repentance Then shall I Be deem'd as false and shame my Prophecie O heavy burthen of a doubtfull mind Where shall I goe or which way shall I wind My heart like Ianus looketh to and fro My Credit bids me Stay my God bids Goe If Goe my labour 's lost my shame 's at hand If stay Lord I transgresse my Lords command If goe from bad estate to worse I fall If stay I slide from bad to worst of all My God bids goe my credit bids me stay My guilty feare bids fly another way So Ionah straight arose himselfe bedight With fit acoutrements for hasty flight In stead of staffe he tooke a Shipmans weed In stead of going loâ— he flyes with speed Like as a Hawke that overmatcht with might Doing sad penance for th'unequall fight Answâ—ring the Falkners second shout does flee From fist turnes tayle to foule and takes a tree So Ionah baulks the place where he was sent To Nineveh and downe to Iaffa went He sought enquired and at last he found A welcome Ship that was to Tharsis bound Where he may flye the presence of the Lord He makes no stay but straightway goes aboord His hasty purse for bargaine findes no leisure Where sinn delights there 's no account of treasure Nor did he know nor aske how much his Fare He gave They tooke all parties pleased are How thriftlesse of our cost and paines are we Great God of heaven and earth to fly from thee Now have the sailors drunke their parting cup They goe aboord The Sâ—â—les are hoisting up The Anchor 's wayd the keele begins t' obey Her gentle Rudder leaves her quiet Key Divides the streames and without winde or oare She easly glides along the moving shore Her swelling Canvace gives her nimbler motion Sh'outstrips the Tide and hies her to the Ocean Forth to the deepe she launches and outbraves The prouder billowes rides upon the waves She plies that course her Compas hath enjoindher And soone hath left the lessned land behind her By this the breath of heaven began to cease Calme were the Seas the waves were all at peace The flagging mainsaile flapt against her yard The uselesse Compasse and the idle Card Were both neglected Vpon every side The gamesome Porpisce tumbled on the Tide Like as a Mastisâ—e when restrain'd a while Is made more furious and more apt for spoile Or when the breath of man being bard the course At length breakes forth with a farre greater force Even so the miâ—der breath of heaven at last Le ts flye more fierce and blowes a stronger blast All on a sudden darkned was the Sky With gloomy clouds heavens more refulgent eye Was all obscur'd The aire grew damp and cold And strong mouth'd Bâ—reas could no longer hold Eolus le ts loose his uncontrouled breath Whose language threatens nothing under death The Rudder failes The ship's at random driven The eye no object ownes but Sea and Heaven The Welkin stormes and rages more and more The raine powres down the heavens begin to rore As they would split the massie Globe in sunder From those that live above to those live under The Pilot's frighted knowes not what to doe His Art 's amaz'd in such a maze of woe Faces grow sad
Prayers and complaints are rise Each one 's become an Orator for life The Windes above the waters underneath Ioyne in rebellion and conspire death The Seamens courage now begins to quaile Some ply the plump whilst others strike the â—aile Their hands are busie while their hearts despaire Their feares and dangers move their lips to praier They praid but winds did snatch their words away And lets their pray'rs not go to whom they pray But still they pray but still the wind and weather Do turn both ship prai'rs they know not whether Their gods were deafe their danger waxed greater They cast their wares out and yet ne're the better But all this while was Ionah drown'd in sleepe And in the lower decke was buried deepe Medita 2. BVt stay this was a strange and uncouth word Did Ionah flye the presence of the Lord What mister word is that He that repleats The mighty Vniverse whose lofty seat's Th' imperiall Heaven whose footstoole is the face Of massie Earth Can he from any place Be barr'd or yet by any meanes excluded That is in all things and yet not included Could Ionah finde a resting any where So void or secret that God was not there I stand amaz'd and frighted at this word Did Ionah flye the presence of the Lord Mount up to Heaven and there thou shalt discover The exc'lent glory of his kingly power Bestride the earth beneath with weary pace And there he beares the Olive branch of Grace Dive downe into th' extreme Abisse of Hell And there in Iustice doth th' Almighty dwell What secret Cloister could there then afford A screene'twixt faithlesse Ionah and his Lord ¶ â—onah was charg'd to take a charge in hand But Ionah turn'd his backe on Gods command Shooke off his yoke and wilfully neglected And what was strictly charg'd he quite rejected And so he fled the power of his Word And so he fled the presence of his Lord. ¶ Good God! how poore a thing is wretched man So fraile that let him strive the best he can With every little blast hee 's overdon If mighty Cedars of great Lebanâ—n Cannot the danger of the Axe withstand Lord how shall we that are but bushes stand How fond corrupt how senselesse is mankinde How faining deafe is he How wilfull blinde He stops his eares and sinnes he shuts his eyes And blindfold in the lap of danger flyes He sinnes despaires and then to stint his griefe He chuses death to baulke the God of life ¶ Poore wretched sinner travell where thou wilt Thy travell shall be burthen'd with thy guilt Climb tops of hils that prospects may delight thee There wil thy sins like wolves bears afright thee Fly to the vallies that those frights may shun thee And there like Mountains they will fall upon thee Or to the raging Seas with Ionah goe There will thy sinnes like stormy Neptune flow Poore shiftlesse Man what shall become of thee Wher'ere thou fly'st thy griping sinne will flee ¶ But all this while the ship where Ionah sleepes Is tost and torne and batter'd on the Deeps And well-nigh split upon the threatning Rocke With many a boistrous brush and churly knocke God helpe all desp'rate voyagers and keepe All such as feele thy wonders on the deepe THE ARGVMENT The Pilot thumps on Ionah's brest And rowzeth Ionah from his rest They all cast Lotts being sore afrighted The sacred Lott on Ionah lighted Sect. 3. THe amazed Pilot finding no successe But that the storme grew rather more than lesse For all their toilsome paines and needlesse praiers Despairing both of life and goods repaires To Ionahs drowsie Cabbin mainly cals Cals Ionah Ionah and yet lowder yawles Yet Ionah sleepes and gives a shrug or two And snores as greedy sleepers use to doe The wofull Pylot jogs him but in vaine Perchance he dreames an idle word or twaine At length he tugs and puls his heavy coarse And thunders on his brest with all his force But after many yawnes he did awake him And being both affrighted thus bespake him Arise O Sleeper O arise and 〈◊〉 There 's not a twiny thred'twixt death and thee This darkesome place thou measur'st is thy grave And sudden Death rides proud on yoâ—der wave Arise O sleeper O arise and pray Perhaps thy God will heare and not say Nay Repaire the losse of these our ill spent houres Perchance thy God's more powerfull than ours Heavens hand may cease and have compassion on us And turne away this mischiefe it hath done us The sturdy Saylors weary of their paine Finding their bootlesse labour lost and vaine Forbare their toilesome task and wrought no more Expecting Death for which they lookt before They call a parley and consult together They count their sinnes accusing one another That for his sinne or his this ill was wrought In fine they all proove guilty of the fault But yet the question was not ended so One sayes 'T was thine offence but he sayes No But 't was for thy sake that accuses me Râ—sht forth a third the worser of the three And swore it was anothers which he hearing Deny'd it 〈◊〉 and said 'T was thine for swearing In came a fift accusing all replying But little else they all chid him for lying One said it was another said 't was not So all agreed to stint the strife by Lott Then all was whist and all to prayer went For such a bus'nesse a fit complement The Lott was cast t'pleas'd God by Lots to tell The Lott was cast the Lott on Ionah fell Medita 3. O Sacred subjâ—ct of a Meditation Thy Workes O Lord are full of Admiration Thy judgements all are just severe and sure They quite cut off or else by lancing cure The festring sore of a rebellious heart Lest-foule infection taint th' immortall part How deepe a Lethargy doth this disease Bring to the slumbring soule through carelesse ease Which once being wak't as from a golden dreame Lookes up and sees her griefâ—s the more extreme How seeming sweet's the quiet sleepe of sin Which when a wretched man 's once nuzzled in How soundly sleepes he without feare or wit No sooner doe his armes infolded knit A drowzy knot upon his carelesse brest But there he snorts and snores in endlesse rest His eyes are closed fast and deafe his eares And like Endymion sleepes himselfe in yeares His sense-bound heart relents not at the voice Of gentle warning neither does the noise Of strong reproofe awake his sleeping eare Nor louder threatnings thunder makes him heare So deafe's the sinners eare so numb'd his sense That sinne 's no corrosive breeds no offence For custome brings delight deludes the heart Beguiles the sense and takes away the smart ¶ But stay Did one of Gods elected number Whose eies should never sleep nor eie lids â—luÌ„ber So much forget himselfe Did Ionah fleepe That should be watchfull and the Tower keepe Did Ionah the selected mouth of God In stead of roaring judgements does he nod Did
the grounds and how unstable How many Deities yet how unable Implore these gods that list to howle and barke They bow to Dagon Dagon to the Arke But hee to whom the seale of mercy 's given Adores Iehovah the Great God of Heaven Vpon the mention of whose sacred Name Meeke Lambs grow fierce the fierce Lions tame Bright Sol shall stop heaven shal turn his course Mountains shall dance and Neptune slake his force The Seas shall part the fire want his flame Vpon the mention of Iâ—hovah's Name A Name that makes the roofe of Heaven to shake The frame of Earth to quiver Hell to quake A Name to which all Angels blow their Trumps A Name puts frolicke man into his dumps Though ne're so blythe A Name of high renown It mounts the meeke and beats the loftie downe A Name divides the marrow in the bone A Name which out of hard and flintiâ— stone Extracteth hearts of flesh and makes relent Those hearts that never knew what mercy ment O Lord how great 's thy Name in all the Land How mighty are the wonders of thy hand How is thy glory plac't above the heaven To tender mouthes of Sucklings thou hast given Coercive pow'r and boldnesse to reproove When elder men doe what them not behoove O Lord how great 's the power of thine hand O God! how great 's thy Name in all the Land THE ARGVMENT The Prophet doth his fault discover Perswadeâ— the men to cast him over They row and toyle but doe no good They pray to be excus'd from blood Sect. 5. SO Ionah fram'd this speech to their demand Not that I seeke to traverse the command Of my deare Lord and out of minde perverse T' avoid the Ninivites doe I amerâ—e My selfe Nor that I ever heard you threat Vnlesse I went to Niniveh the great And doe the message sent her from the Lord That you would kill or cast me over-boord Doe I doe thiâ— 'T is my deserved fine You all are guiltlesse and the fault is mine T is I ' tâ—â— I alone 't is I am he The tempest comes from heaven the cause from me You shall not lose a haire â—or this my sâ—â— Nor perish for the fault that mine hath bin Lo I the man am here Lâ— I am he The root of all End your revenâ—e on me I fled th' Eternall God O let me then Because I fled my God so flie from men Redeeme your lives with mine Ah why should I Not guiltlesse live and you not guilty die I am the man for whom these billowes dance My death shall purchase your deliverance Feare not to cease your feares but throw me in Alas my soule is burthen'd with my sin And God is just and bent to his Decree Which certaine is and cannot alter'd be I am proclaim'd a Traitor to the King Of heaven an earth The windes with speedy wing Acquaint the Seas The Seas mount up on high And cannot rest untill the Traytor die Oh cast me in and let my life be ended Let Death make Iustice mends which Life offended Oh let the swellinâ— waters me enbalme So shall the Waves be still and Sea be calme So said th' amazed Mariners grew sad New Love abstracted what old Feare did adde Love called Pity Feare call'd vengeance in Love view'd the Sinner Feare beheld the Sin Love cry'd out Hold for better sav'd than spil'd But Feare cry'd Kill O better kill than kill'd Thus plung'd with Passions they distracted were Betwixt the hopes and doubts of Love and Feare Some cry'd out Save if this foule deed we doe Vengeance that haunted him will haunt us too Others cry'd No May rather death befall To one that hath deserv'd to dye then all Save him sayes one Oh save the man that thus His dearest blood hath profer'd to save us No sayes another vengeance must have blood And vengeance strikes most hard when most withstood In fine say all Then let the Prophet die And we shall live For Prophets cannot lye Loth to be guilty of their owne yet loth To haste poore Ionahs death with hope that both Th' approching evils might be at once prevented With prayers and paines reutter'd reattented They try'd new wayes despairing of the old Love quickens courage makes the spirits bold They strove in vaine by toile to win the shore And wrought more hard than erâ—e they did before But now both hands and hearts begin to quaile For bodies wanting rest must faint and faile The Seas are angry and the waves arise Appeas'd with nothing but a Sacrifice Gods vengeance stormeth like the raging Seas Which nought but Ionah dying can appease Fond is that labour which attempts to free What Heaven hath bound by a divine decree Ionah must die Heaven hath decreed it so Ionah must die or else they all die too Ionah must die that from his Lord did flie The Lott determines Ionah then must die His guilty word confirmes the sacred Lott Ionah must die then if they perish not If Iustice then appoint since he must die Said they us Actors of â—is Tragedy We beg not Lord a warrant to offend O pardon blood-shed that we must intend Though not our hands yet shall our hearts be cleare Then let not stainlesse consciences beare The pond'rous burden of a Murders guilt Or pay the price of blood that must be spilt For 〈◊〉 deare Lord it is thine owne decree And we sad ministers of Iustice be Meditat. 5. BVt stay a while this thing would first be known Can Ionah give himselfe and not his owne That part to God and to his Countrey this Pertaines so that a slender third is his Why then should Ionah doe a double wrong To deale himselfe away that did belong The least unto himselfe or how could hee Teach this Thou shalt not kill if Ionah be His life 's owne Butcher What was this a deed That with the Calling he profest agreed The purblinde age whose workes almost divine Did meerely with the oyle of Nature shine That knew no written Law nor Grace nor God To whip their conscience with a steely rod How much did they abhorre so foule a fact When led by Natures glimpse they made an act Selfe-murderers should be deny'd to have The charitable honour of a Grave Can such doe so when Ionah does amisse What Ionas Isr'els Teacher and doe this The Law of Charity doth all forbid In this thing to doe that which Ionah did Moreo're in charity 't is thy behest Of dying men to thinke and speake the best The mighty Samson did as much as this And who dare say that Samson did amisse If heavens high Spirit whisper'd in his eare Expresse command to doe 't No wavering feare Drew backe the righteous Abram's armed hand From Isaacks death secur'd by heavens command ¶ Sure is the knot that true Religion tyes And Love that 's rightly grounded never dyes It seemes a paradoxe beyond beliefe That men in trouble should prolong reliefe That Pagans to withstand a
Strangers Fate Should be neglective of his owne estate Where is this love become in later age Alas 't is gone in endlesse pilgrimage From hence and never to returne I doubt 'Till revolution wheele those times about Chill brests have starv'd her here and she is driven Away and with Astraea fled to heaven Poore Charity that naked Babe is gone Her honey's spent and all her store is done Her winglesse Bees can finde out ne're a bloome And crooked Aâ—â— doth usurpe her roome Nepenthe's dry and Love can get no drinke And curs'd Arâ—enâ—e flowes above the brinke Brave Mariners the world your names shal hallow Admiring that in you that none dare follow Your friendship 's rare and your conversion straÌ„ge From Paganisme to zeale A sudden change Those men doe now the God of heaven implore That bow'd to Puppets but an houre before Their zeale is fervent though but new begun Before their egge-shels were done off they runne And when bright Phoebus in a Summer tide New risâ—n from the bosome of his Bride Enveloped with misty fogges at length Breakes forth displaies the mist with Southerne strength Even so these Mariners of peerlesse mirrour Their faith b'ing veil'd within the mist of errour At length their zeale chac'd ignorance away They left their Puppets and began to pray ¶ Lord how unlimited are thy confines That still pursu'st man in his good designes Thy mercy 's like the dew of Hermon hill Or like the Oyntment dropping downward still From Aarons head to beard from beard to foote So doe thy mercies drench us round about Thy love is boundlesse Thou art apt and free To turne to Man when Man returnes to thee THE ARGVMENT They cast the Prophet over boord The storme alay'd They feare the Lord A mighty Fish him quick devoures Where he remained many houres Sect. 6. EVen as a member whose corrupted sore Infests and rankles eating more and more Threatning the bodies losse if not prevented The wise chirurgion all faire meanes attented Cuts off and with advised skil doth choose To lose a part then all the body lose Even so the feeble Sailors that addresse Their idle armes where heaven denyes successe Forbeare their thrivelesse labours and devise To roote that Evill from whence their harms arise Treason is in their thoughts and in their eares Danger revives the old and addes new feares Their hearts grow fierce and every soule applies T' abandon mercy from his tender eyes They cease t' attempt what heaven so long withstood And bent to kill their thoughts are all on blood They whisper oft each word is Deaths Alarme They hoyst him up Each lends a busie arme And with united powers they entombe His out-cast body in Thetis angry wombe Whereat grim Neptune wip't his fomy mouth Held his tridented Mace upon the South The windes were whist the billows danc't no more The storme allay'd the heavens left off to rore The waves obedient to their pilgrimage Gave ready passage and surceast their rage The skie grew cleare and now the welcome light Begins to put the gloomy clouds to flight Thus all on sudden was the Sea tranquill The Heav'ns were quiet and the Waves were still As when a friendly Creditor to get A long forborne and much-concerning debt Still plies his willing debter with entreats Importunes daily daily thumps and beates The batter'd Portals of his tyred eares Bedeafing him with what he knowes and heares The weary debter to avoid the sight He loathes shifts here and there and ev'ry night Seekes out Protection of another bed Yet ne'rethelesse pursu'd and followed His eares are still laid at with lowder volley Of harder Dialect He melancholy Sits downe and sighs and after long foreslowing T' avoid his presence payes him what is owing The thankfull Creditor is now appeas'd Takes leave and goes away content and pleas'd Even so these angry waves with restlesse rage Accosted Ionas in his pilgrimage And thundred Iudgement in his fearefull eare Presenting Hubbubs to his guilty feare The waves rose discontent the Surges beat And every moments death the billowes threat The weather-beaten Ship did every minuit Await destruction while hee was in it But when his long expected corps they threw Into the deepe a debt through trespasse due The Seagrew kinde and all her frownes abated Her face was smooth to all that navigated 'T was sinfull Ionah made her storme and rage 'T was sinfull Ionah did her storme asswage With that the Mariners astonisht were And fear'd Iehovah with a mighty feare Offring up Sacrifice with one accord And vowing solemne vowes unto the Lord. But he whose word can make the earth's foundatioÌ„ Tremble and with his Word can make cessation Whose wrath doth mouÌ„t the waves toss the Seas And make theÌ„ calme smooth wheÌ„ e're he please This God whose mercy runs on endlesse wheele And puls like Iacob Iustice by the heele Prepar'd a Fish prepar'd a mighty Whale Whose belly was both prison-house and baile For retchlesse Ionah As the two leaf'd doore Opens to welcome home the fruitfull store Wherewith the harvest quits the Plowmans hope Even so the great Leviathan set ope His beame-like Iawes prepar'd for such a boone And at a morsell swallow'd Ionah downe 'Till dewy-check't Aurora's purple dye Thrice dappell'd had the ruddy morning skie And thrice had spred the Curtaines of the morne To let in Titan when the day was borne Ionah was Tenant to this living Grave Embowel'd deepe in this stupendious Cave Meditat. 6. LO Death is now as alwaies it hath bin The just procured stipend of our sinne Sinne is a golden Causie and a Road Garnisht with joyes whose pathes are even broad But leads at length to death and endlesse griefe To torments and to paines without reliefe Iustice feares none but maketh all afraid And then fals hardest when t is most delaid But thou reply'st thy sinnes are daily great Yet thou sittst uncontrold upon thy seat Thy wheat doth flourish and thy barnes do thrive Thy sheepe encrease thy sonnes are all alive And thou art buxom and hast nothing scant Finding no want of any thing but want Whil'st others whom the â—quint-ey'd world counts holy Sit sadly drooping in a melancholy With brow dejected and downe-hanging head Or take of almes or poorely begge their bread But young man know there is a Day of doome The Feast is good untill the reck'ning come The time runnes fastest where is least regard The stone that 's long in falling falleth hard There is a dying day thou prosp'rous foole When all thy laughter shall be turn'd to Doole Thy roabes to tort'ring plagues fel tormenting Thy whoops of Ioy to howles of sad lamenting Thy tongue shall yell and yawle and never stop And wish a world to give for one poore drop To flatter thine intolerable paine The wealth of Pluto could not then obtaine A minutes freedome from that hellish rout Whose fire burnes and never goeth out Nor house nor land not measur'd heaps of wealth
and that on t' other Seed Moves as they move and stayes when as they stay And seemes delighted in their infant-play Yet fearing danger with a busie eye Lookes here and there if ought she can espy Which unawares might snatch a booty from her Eyes all that passe and watches every commer Even so th' affection of this tender Syre B'ing made more fervent with the selfe-same â—â—re Of dearest love which flamed in their brests Preserved as by fuell in those Feasts Was ravisht in the height of joyes to see His happy Childrens ten-fold unity As was his joy such was his holy feare Lest he that plants his Engines every where Baited with golden Sinnes and re-insnares The soule of Man turning his Wheat to Tares Should season Error with the taste of Truth And tempt the frailty of their tender youth No sooner therefore had the dappled skie Opened the Twilight of her waking eye And in her breaking Light had promis'd day But up he rose his holy hands did Iay Vpon the sacred Altar one by one An early Sacrifice for every Sonne For who can tell said he my Sonnes perchance Hâ—ve slipt some sinne which neither Ignorance Pleaded nor want of heed nor youth can cure Sin steales unseene when men sleep most secure Meditat. 1. WAnt is the badge of poverty Then he That wanteth most is the most poore say we The wretch that hunger drives from door to door Aiming at present Almes desires no more The toiling Swaine that hath with pleasing trouble Cockt a small fortune would that fortune double Which dearly bought with slav'ry then alas Hee would be deem'd a Man that 's well to passe Which got his mind 's now tickled with an itch But to deserve that glorious stile of Rich. That done h'enjoyes the crowne of all his labour Could he but once out-nose his right-hand-neighbourâ— Lives he at quiet now Now he begins To wish that Vs'ry were the least of sinnes But great or small he tries and sweet's the trouble And for its sake he wishes all things double Thus wishing still his wishes never cease But as his Wealth his Wishes still encrease Wishes proceed from want The richest then Most wishing want most and are poorest men If he be poore that wanteth much how poore Is he that hath too much and yet wants more Thrice happy he to whom the bounty of heaven Sufficient with a sparing hand hath given 'T is Grace not Gold makes great sever but which The Rich man is but poore the Poore man rich The fairest Crop of either Grasse or Graine Is not for use undew'd with timely raine The wealth of Croesus were it to be given Were not thank-worthy if unblest by Heaven Even as faire Phaebe in Diameter Earth interpos'd betwixt the Sunne and her Suffers Eclips and is disrobed quite During the time of all her borrowed Light So Riches which fond Mortals so embrace If not enlightned with the Beames of Grace B'ing interposed with too grosse a Care They lye obscured and no riches are My stint of Wealth lyes not in my expressing With Iacobs Store Lord give me Iacobs Blessing Or if at night thou grant me Lazars Boone Let Dives Dogs licks all my sores at noone Lord pare my wealth by my Capacity Lest I with it or it suit not with mee This humbly doe I sue for at thy hand Enough and not too much for my command Lord what thou lend'st shall serve but in the place Of reckoning Counters to summe up thy Grace THE ARGVMENT Satan appeares and then professes Himselfe mans Enemy confesses Gods love to Iob malignes his Faith Gaines power over all he hath Sect. 2. VPon a time when heaveÌ„s sweet quire of Saints Whose everlasting Hallelujah chaunts The highest praise of their celestiall King Before their Lord did the presentment bring Of th' execution of his sacred Will Commited to their function to fulfill Satan came too that Satan which betraid The soule of man to Deaths eternall shade Satan came too and in the midst he stands Like to a Vulture 'mongst a herd of Swans Said then th' Eternall From what quarter now Hath businesse brough thee Satan whence com'st thou The Lord of Heaven said th' Infernall since Thou hast intitled me the Worlds great Prince I hâ—ve beene practising mine old profession And come from compassing my large Possession Tempting thy sonnes and like a roaring Lion Seeking my prey disturbe the peace of Sion I come from sâ—wing Tares among thy Wheat To him that shall dissemble Peters seat I have beene plotting how to prompt the death Of Christian Princes and the bribed breath Of cheapned Iustice hath my fire inflam'd With spirit of boldnesse for a while unsham'd I come from planting strife and sterne debate 'Twixt private man and man 'twixt State and State Subverting Truth with all the power I can Accusing Man to God and God to Man I daily sâ—w fresh Schismes among thy Saints I buffet them and laugh at their complaints The Earth is my Dominion Hell 's my Home I round the World and so from thence I come Said then th' Eternall True thou hast not fail'd Of what thou say'st thy spirit hath prevail'd To vexe my little Flocke Thou hast beene bold To make them stray a little from their Fold Bâ—t say In all thy hard Adventures hath Thine eye observed Iob my Servants faith Hath open force or secret fraud beset His Bulwarkes so impregnable as yet And hast thou without envy yet beheld How that the World his second cannot yeeld Hast thou not found that he 's of upright will Iust fearing God â—schewing what is ill True Lord reply'd the Fiend thy Champion â—â—th A strong and fervent yet a crafty Faith A forced love needs no such great applause He loves but ill that loves not for a cause Hast thou not heap'd his Garners with excesse Inricht his Pastures Doth not he possesse All that he hath or can demand from Thee His Coffers fill'd his Land stock'd plenteouâ—â—y Hath not thy love surrounded him about â—And â—edg'd him in to fence my practice out But small 's the triall of a Faith in this â—f thou suppâ—rt him t is thy strength not hisâ— Can then my power that stands by thy permission Encounter where Thou mak'st an Opposition Stretch forth thy Hand and smite 〈◊〉 what he hath And prove thou then the temper of his Faith Cease cock'ring his fond humour veile thy Grace No doubt but he 'll blaspheme thee to thy fâ—â—c Lâ—e said th' Eternall to thy cursed hand I â—ere commit his mighty Stocke his Land His hopefull Issue and Wealth though nere so much Himselfe alone thou shalt forbeare to touch Medita 2. SAâ—an beg'd once and found his pray'rs reward We often beg yet oft returne unheard If granting be th' effect of love then we Conclude our selves to be lesse lov'd than hee True Satan beg'd and beg'd his shame no lesse 'T was granted shall we envie his successe We beg and our request 's perchance not granted
God knew perhaps it were worse had than wanted Can God and Belial both joyne in one will The one to aske the other to fulfill Sooner shall Stygian darknesse blend with light The Frost with Fier sooner day with Night True God and Satan will'd the selfe-same Will But God intended Good and Satan Ill That Will produc'd a severall conclusion He aim'd at Mans and God at his confusion He that drew Light from out the depth of Shade And made of Nothing whatsoe're he made â—an out of seeming Evill bring good Events God worketh Good though by ill Instruments As in a Clocke one motion doth convay And carry divers wheeles a severall way Yet altogether by the great wheeles force Direct the hand unto his proper course Even so that sacred Will although it use Meanes seeming contrary yet all conduce To one effect and in a free consent They bring to passe heavens high decreed intent Takes God delight in humane weaknesse then What glory reapes he from afflicted men The Spirit gone can Flesh and Blood indure God burnes his Gold to make his Gold more pure Even as a Nurse whose childe 's imperfect pace Can hardly leade his foote from place to place Leaves her fond kissing sets him downe to goe Nor does uphold him for a step or two But when she findes that he begins to fall She holds him up and kisses him withall So God from man sometimes withdrawes his hand A while to teach his Infant faith to stand But when he sees his feeble strength begin To faile he gently takes him up againe Lord I 'm a childe so guide my paces than That I may learne to walke an upright man So shield my Faith that I may never doubt thee For I shall fall if e're I walke without thee THE ARGVMENT The frighted Mâ—ssengers tell Iob His foure-fold losse He rends his Roâ—e Submits him to his Makers trust Whom he concludeth to be just Sect. 3. VPon that very day when all the rest Were frollicke at their elder Brothers feaâ—t A breathlesse man prickt on with winged feare With staring eyes distracted here and there Like kindled Exhalations in the Aire At midnight glowing his stiffe-bolting haire Not much unlike the pennes of Porcupines Crossing his armes and making wofull signes Purboyl'd in sweat shaking his fearfull head That often lookt behinde him as he fled He ran to Iob still ne'rethelesse afraid His broken blast breath'd forth these words said Alas deare Lord the whiles thy servants ply'd Thy painfull Plough and whilest on every side Thy Asses fed about us as we wrought There sallyed forth on us suspecting nought Nor ought intending but our cheerfull paine A rout of rude Sabaeans with their Traine Armed with death and deafe to all our Cries Which with strong Hand did in an houre suprize All that thou hadst and whilest we strove in vaine To guard them their impartiall hands have slaine Thy faithfull Servants with their thirâ—ty Sword I onely scap't to bring this wofull word No sooner had he clos'd his lips but see Another comes as much agast as he A â—lash of fire said he new falne from heaven Hath all thy servants of their lives bereaven And burnt thy Sheâ—pe I I alone am he That 's left unslaine to bring the newes to thee This Tale not fully told a third ensues Whose lips in labour with more heavy Newes Brake thus The forces of a triple Band Brought from the fiâ—rce Caldaeans with strong haÌ„d Hath seiz'd thy Camels murther'd with the sword Thy servants all but me that brings thee word Before the aire had cool'd his hasty breath Rusht in a fourth with visage pale as Death The while said he thy children all were sharing Mirth at a feast of thy first Sonnes preparing Arose a Winde whose errand had more hast Than happy speed which with a full-mouth blast Hath smote the house which hath thy children reft Of all their lives and thou art childlesse left Thy children all are slaine all slaine together I onely scap't to bring the tidings hither So said Behold the man whose wealth did flow Like to a Spring-tide one bare houre agoe With the unpattern'd height of fortunes blest Above the greatest Dweller in the East He that was Syre of many sonnes but now Lord of much people and while-e're could show Such Herds of Cattell He whose fleecy stocke Of Sheepe could boast seven thousand in a flocke See how he lies of all his wealth dispoil'd He now hath neither Servant Sheepe nor Childe Like a poore man arose the patient Iob Stun'd with the newes and rent his purple Robe Shaved the haire from off his wofull head And prostrate on the floore he worshipped Naked ah Poore and naked did I come Fâ—rth from the closet of my mothers wombe And shall returne alas the very same To th' earth as poore and naked as I came God gives and takes and why should He not have A priviledge to take those things he gave We men mistake our Tenure oft for He Lends us at will what we miscall as Free He reassumes his owne takes but the same He lent a while Thrice blessed be his Name In all this passage Iob in heart nor Tongue Thought God unjust or charg'd his hand with wrong Medita 3. THe proudest pitch of that victorious spirit Was but to win the World whereby t'inheritâ— The ayrie purchase of a transitory And glozing Title of an ages Glory Would'st thou by conquest win more fame thaÌ„ He Subdue thy selfe thy selfe's a world to thee Earth's but a Ball that Heaven hath quilted o're With wealth and Honour banded on the floore Of fickle Fortunes false and slippery Court Sent for a Toy to make us Children sport Mans satiate spirits with fresh delights supplying To still the Fondlings of the world from crying And he whose merit mounts to such a Ioy Gaines but the Honour of a mighty Toy But would'st thou conquer have thy conquest crown'd By hands of Seraphins trimph'd with the sound Of heavens loud Trumpet warbled by the shrill Celestiall quire recorded with a quill Pluckt from the Pinion of an Angels wing Confirm'd with joy by heavens Eternall King Conquer thy selfe thy rebell thoughts repell And chase those false affections that rebell Hath Heaven dispoil'd what his full hand had giveÌ„ thee Nipt thy succeeding Blossomes or bereaven thee Of thy deare latest hope thy bosome Friend Doth sad Despaire deny these griefes an end Despair's a whispring Rebell that within thee Bribes all thy Field and sets thy selfe agin thee Make keene thy Faith and with thy force let flee If thou not conquer him hee 'll conquer thee Advance thy Shield of Patience to thy head And wheÌ„ griefe strikes t will strike the striker deadâ— The patient man in sorrow spies reliefe And by the taile he couples Ioy with Griefe In adverse fortunes be thou strong and stout And bravely win thy selfe Heaven holds not out His Bow for ever bent The disposition Of noblest spirits doth by
the Iayle â—his neglected Schoole turnes speedy tayle â—â—on his tedious booke so ill befriended â—â—fore his Masters Iie be full ended So thanklesse Satan full of winged haste Thinking all time not spent in Mischiefe waste Departs with speed lesse patient to forbeare The patient Iob then patient Iob to beare Forth from the furnace of his Nostrell flies A sulpherous vapour which by the envious eyes Of this foule Fiend inflam'd possest the faire And sweet complexion of th' Abused Ayre With Pestilence and having power so farre Tooke the advantage of his worset Starre Smote him with Vlcers such as once befell Th'Egyptian Wizzards Vlcers hot and fell Which like a searching Tetter uncorrected Left no part of his body unaffected From head to foote no empty place was found That could b'afflicted with another wound So noysome was the nature of his griefe That left by friends and wife that should be chiefe Assister he poore he alone remain'd Groveling in Ashes being himselfe constrain'd With pot-sheards to scrape off those rip'ned cores Which dogs disdain'd to licke from out his sores Which when his wife beheld adust and keene Her passion waxt made strong with scorn spleen Like as the Winds imprison'd in the earth And barr'd the passage to their naturall birth Grow fierce and nilling to be longer pent Break in an Earthquake shake the world and vent So brake shee forth so forth her fury brake Till now pent in with shame and thus she spake Fond Saint thine Innocence findes timely speed A foolish Saint receives a Saintly meed Is this the just mans recompence Or hath Heaven no requitall for thy painfull Faith 〈◊〉 then this What haue thy zealous Qualmes â—â—â—â—ious Fastings and thy hopefull Almes Thy private groanes and often bended knees No other end no other thankes but these 〈◊〉 man submit thee to a kinder fate 〈◊〉 to be righteous at so deare a rate 'T is Heaven not Fortune that thy weale debarres Câ—â—se Heaven then and not thy wayward flarres 'T is God that plagues thee God not knowing why Câ—â—se then that God revenge thy wrongs and dye 〈◊〉 then reply'd God loves where â—e chasâ—iz'd Thou speakest like a foole and ill adviz'd â—â—â—gh we to licke the sweet and shall we lowre If â—e be pleas'd to send a little sowre 〈◊〉 I so weake one blast or two should chill me I 'le trust my Maker though my Maker kill me When these sad tidings fill'd those itching eares Of Earths black babling daughter she that heares And vents alike both Truth and Forgeries And utters often cheaper then she buyes She spred the pinions of her nimble wings Advanc'â— her Trumpet and away she springs And fils the whispering Ayre which soone possest The spacious borders of th'enquiring East Vpon the summon of such solemne Newes Whose truth malignant Fame could not abuse His wofull friends came to him to the end To comfort and bewaile their wretched friend But when they came farre off they did not know Whether it were the selfe same friend or no Brim-fill'd with briny woe they wept and tore â—â—express their grief the garments that they wore Seven dayes and nights they sate upon the ground But spake not for his sorrowes did abound Medit. 5. SAy is not Satan justly stiled than A Tempter and an enemy to Man What could he more His wish would not extend To death lest his assaults with death should end Then what he did what could he further doe His Hand hath seiz'd both goods and body too The hopefull Issue of a holy straine In such a dearth of holinesse is slaine What hath the Lazar left him but his griefe And what might best been spar'd his foolish wife Cold mischief bin more hard though more in kind To nip the flowers and leave the weeds behind Woman was made a Helper by Creation A Helper not alone for Propagation Or fond Delight but sweet Society Which Man alone should want and to supply Comforts to him for whom her Sex was made That each may ioy in eithers needfull ayde But fairest Angels had the foulest fall And best things once abus'd prove worst of all Else had not Satan beene so foule a Fiend Else had not Woman prov'd so false a Friend Ev'n as the treachrous Fowler to entice His silly winged Prey doth first devise To make a Bird his stale at whose false call Others may chance into the selfe-same thrall Even so that crafty snarer of Mankind Finding mans righteous Palate not enclin'd To taste the sweetnesse of his gilded baites Makes a collaterall Suâ—e and slily waites Vpon the weakenesse of some bosome friend From whose enticement he expects his end Ah righteous Iob what crosse was left unknowne What griefe may be describ'd but was thine owne Is this a just mans case What doth befall To one man may as well betide to all The worst I 'le looke for that I can project If better come 't is more then I expect If otherwise I 'm arm'd with Preparation No sorrow's sudden to an expectation Lord to thy Wisedome I submit my Will I will be thankfull send me good or ill If good my present State will passe the sweeter If ill my Crowne of glory shall be greater THE ARGVMENT Orewhelm'd with griefe Iob breaketh forth Into impatience Bans his birth Professes that his heart did doubt And feare what since hath fallen out Sect. 6. WOrn bare with griefe the patient Iob betrai'd His seven-daies silence curst his day said O that my Day of birth had never bin Nâ—â— yet the Night which I was brought forth in Be it not numbred for a Day let Light Not make a difference 'twixt it and Night Let gloomy Shades then Death more sable passe Vpon it to declare how fatall 't was Let Clouds ore-cast it and as hatefull make it As lifes to him whom Tortures bid forsake it From her next day let that blacke Night be cut Nor in the reckning of the Months be put Let Desolation fill it all night long In it be never heard a Bridall song Let all sad Mourners that doe curse the light When light 's drawne in begin to curse this night Her evening Twilight let foule darknesse staine And may her midnight expect light in vaine Nor let her infanâ— Day but newly borne Suffer't to see the Eye-lids of the morne Because my Mothers Wombe it would not clâ—ze Which gave me passage to endure these Woes Why dyed I not in my Conception rather Or why was not my Birth and death together Why did the Midwife take me on her knees Why did I sucke to feele such griefes as these Then had this body never beene opprest I had injoy'd th' eternall sleepe of rest With Kings and mighty Monarchs that lie crown'd With stately Monuments poore I had found A place of Rest had borne as great a sway Had beene as happy and as rich as they Why was not I as an abortive birth The â—e're had knowne the horrors of the earth The silent
Grave is quiet from the feare Of Tyrants Tyrants are appeased there The grinded Prisner heares not there the noyse Nor harder threatnings of th'Oppressors voyce â—oth rich and poore are equal'd in the Grave Servants no Lords and Lords no Servants have What needs there light to him that 's comfortlesse Or life to such as languish in distresse 〈◊〉 long for death which if it come by leysure They ransack for it as a hidden treasure What needs there Life to him that cannot have A Bâ—â—ne more gracious then a quiet Grave Or else to him whom God hath wall'd about That would but cannot finde a passage out When I but taste my sighes returne my food The flowing of my teares have rais'd a flood When my estate was prosperous I did feare Leâ—t by some heedlesse slip or want of care I might be brought to Misery and alas What I did then so feare is come to passe But though secure my soule did never slumber Yet doe my Woes exceed both Waight and Number Meditat. 6. SO poore a thing is Man No Flesh and blood Deserves the stile of Absolutely Good The righteous man sins oft whose power 's such To sin the least sins at the least too much The man whose Faith disdain'd his Isaacks life Dissembled once a Sister for a Wife The righteous Lot being drunk did make at once His Daughters both halfe sisters to their sonnes The royall Favorite of heaven stood Not guiltlesse of Adultery and Blood And he whose hands did build the Temple doth Bow downe his lustfull knees to Ashtaroth The sinfull Woman was accus'd but none Was found that could begin to fling a stone From mudled Springs can Christall water come In some things all men sin in all things some Even as the soyle which Aprils gentle showers Have fild with sweetnesse and inricht with flowers Reares up her suckling plants still shooting forth The tender blossomes of her timely Birth But if deny'd the beames of cheerly May They hang their withered heads and fade away So man assisted by th' Almighties Hand His Faith doth flourish and securely stand But left a while forsooke as in a shade It â—â—nguishes and nipt with sin doth fade No Gold is pure from Drosse though oft refin'd The strongest Cedar's shaken with the wind The fairest Rose hath no prerogative Against the fretting Canker-worme The Hive No honey yeeldâ— unblended with the wax The finest Linnen hath both soyle and bracks The best of men have sins None lives secure In Nature nothing's perfect nothing pure Lord since I needs must sin yet grant that I Forge no advantage by infirmity Since that my Vesture cannot want a staine Assist me lest the tincture be in Graine To thee my great Redeemer doe I flye It is thy Death alone can change my Dye Teares mingled with the Blood can scower so That Scarlet sinnes shall turne as white as Snow THE ARGVMENT Rash Eliphaz reproves and rates And falsly censures Iob Relates His Vision shewes him the event Of wicked men Bids him repent Sect. 7. THen Eliphas his pounded tongue repliev'd And said shold I conteÌ„d thou wold'st be grievd Yet what man can refraine but he must breake His angry silence having heard thee speake O sudden change many hast thou directed And strengthned those whose minds have bin dejected Thy sacred Thewes and sweet Instructions did Helpe those were falling rais'd up such as slid But now it is thy case thy soule is vext And canst not help thy selfe thy selfe perplext Thou lov'st thy God but basely for thy profit Fear'st him in further expectation of it Iudge then Did Record ever round thine eare That God forsooke the heart that was sincere But often have we seene that such as plow Lewdnesse and mischiefe reape the same they sow So have proud Tyrants from their thrones bin cast With all their off-spring by th' Almighties Blast And they whose hands have bin imbrew'd in blood Have with their Issue dyed for want of Food A Vision lately appear'd before my sight In depth of darknesse and the dead of night Vnwonted feare usurpt me round about My trembling bones were sore from head to foot Forthwith a Spirit glanc'd before mine eyes My browes did sweat my moistned haire did rise The face I knew not but a while it staid And in the depth of silence thus it said Is man more just more pure then his Creator Amongst his Angels more upright by nature Then man he hath found Weaknesse how much more Shall he expect in him that 's walled ore With mortall flesh and blood founded and floor'd With Dust and with the Wormes to be devour'd They rise securely with the Morning Sunne And unregarded dye ere Day be done Their glory passes with them as a breath They die like Fooles before they think of death Rage then and see who will approve thy rage What Saint will give thy railing Patronage Anger destroyes the Foole and he that hath A wrathfull heart is slaine with his owne wrath Yet have I seene that Fooles have oft beene able To boast with Babel but have falne with Babel Their sons despairing roare without reliefe In open ruine on the Rocks of Griefe Their harvest though but small the hungry eate And robbers seize their wealth thogh ne'r so great But wretched man were thy Condition mine I 'de not despaire as thou dost nor repine But offer up the broken Sacrifice Of a sad soule before his angry eyes Whose workes are Miracles of admiration He mounts the meeke amidst their Desolation Confounds the worldly wise that blindfold they Grope all in darknesse at the noone of day But guards the humble from reproach of wrong And stops the current of the crafty Tongue Thrice happy is the man his hands correct Beware lest Fury force thee to reject Th' Almighties Tryall He that made thy wound In Iustice can in Mercy make it sound Feare not though multiply'd afflictions shall Besiege thee He at length will rid them all In Famine he shall feed in Warre defend thee Shield thee from slander in griefes attend thee The Beasts shall strike with thee eternall Peace The Stones shall not disturbe thy fields Encrease Thy House shall thrive replenisht with Content Which thou shalt rule in prosp'rous Government The number of thy Of-spring shall abound Like Summers Grasse upon a fruitfull Ground Like timely Corne well ripened in her Eares Thou shalt depart thy life strucke full of yeeres All this Experience teâ—ls Then Iob advise Thou hast taught many now thy selfe be wise Meditat. 7. THe perfect Modell of true Friendship 's this A rare affection of the soule which is Begun with ripened judgement doth persever With simple Wisedome concludes with Never 'T is pure in substance as refined Gold That buyeth all things but is never sold It is a Coyne and most men walke without it True Love 's the Stamp Iâ—hovah's writ about it It rusts unus'd but using makes it brighter 'Gainst Heav'n high treason 't is to make
glorious Conquerour is now afraid His conscious heart is smitten with his sinne He cannot chuse but feare and feare agin He feares and now the terrible alarmes Of sinne doe call him from th'unlawfull armes And lips of his luxurious Concubine Bids him arise from dalliance and resigne The usurpation of his luke-warme place To some new sinner whose lesse dangerous case May lend more leisure to so soule a deed Samson with greater and vnwonted speed Leapes from his wanton bed his feares doe presse More haste to cloath than lust did to undresse He makes no tarryance but with winged hast Bestrides the streets and to the gates he past And through the armed troupes he makes his way Beares gates and barres and pillers all away So scap'd the rage of the Philistian band That still must owe his ruine to their land Medit. 19. HOw weake at strongest is poore flesh blood Samson the greatnes of whose power withstood A little world of armed men with death â—ust now be foyled with a womans breath The mother sometimes lets her infant fall To make it hold the surer by the wall God lets his servant often goe amisse That he may turne and see how weake he is David that found an overflowing measure Of heavens high favours and as great a treasure Of saving grace and portion of the Spirit As flesh and bloud was able to inherit Must have a fall to exercise his feares And make him drowne his restles couch with tears Wise Salomon within whose heart was planted The fruitfull stockes of heavenly wisdome wanted Not that whereby his weakenesse understood The perfect vanity of flesh and bloud Whose hand seem'd prodigall of his Isaacs life He durst not trust Gods providence with his wife The righteous Lâ—t had slidings Holy Paul He had his pricke and Peter had his fall The sacred Bride in whose faire face remaines The greatest earthly beauty hath her staines If man were perfect land entirely good He were not man he were not flesh and blood Or should he never fall he would at length Not see his weakenesse and presume in strength Ere children know the sharpnesse of the Edge They thinke their fingers have a priveledge Against a wound but having felt the knife A bleeding finger sometime saves a life Lord we are children our sharpe-edg'd knives Together with our bloud le ts out our lives Alas if we but draw them from the sheath They cut our fingers and they bleed to death Thou great Chirurgion of a bleeding soule Whose soveraigne baulme is able to make whole The deepest wound Thy sacred salve is sure We cannot bleed so fast as thou canst cure Heale thou our wounds that having salv'd the sore Our hearts may feare and learne to sinne no more And let our hands be strangers to those knives That wound not fingers onely but our lives THE ARGVMENT He falls in league with Delila The Nobles bribe her to discover Her Samsons strength and learne the way To binde her arme-prevailing Lover Sect. 20. NOt farre from Azza in a fruitfull Valley Close by a brooke whose silver streams did daâ—ley â—ith the smooth bosome of the wanton sands â—hose winding current parts the neighbring lands And often washes the beloved sides â—her delightfull bankes with gentle tydes â—â—re dwelt a Beauty in whose Sunne-bright eye 〈◊〉 sate in thron'd and full of Majestie 〈◊〉 forth such glorious eye-surprizing rayes 〈◊〉 she was thought the wonder of her dayes 〈◊〉 name was called Delila the faire â—â—ther did amorous Samson oft repaire 〈◊〉 with the piercing flame of her bright eye 〈◊〉 so long that like a wanton flye 〈◊〉 â—urnt his lustfull wings and so became 〈◊〉 slavish prisner to that conquering flame She askt and had There 's nothing was too high For her to beg or Samson to denie Who now but Delila What name can raise And crowne his drooping thoughts but Delila's All time 's mispent each houre is cast away That 's not imploy'd upon his Delila Gifts must be given to Delila No cost If sweetest Delila but smile is lost No ioy can please no happinesse can crowne His best desires if Delila but frowne No good can blesse his amorous heart but this Hee 's Delila's and Delila is his Now when the louder breath of fame had blowne Her newes-proclaiming Trumpet made knowne This Lovers passion to the joyfull eares Of the cow'd Philistines their nimble feates Advis'd their better hopes not to neglect So faire advantage which may bring t' effect Their best desires and right their wasted Land Of all her wrongs by a securer hand With that some few of the Philistian Lords Repaire to Delila with baited words They tempt the frailty of the simple maid And having sworne her to their counsell said Faire Delila Thou canst not chuse but know The miseries of our land whose ruines show The danger whereinto not we but all If thou deny they helpefull hand must fall Those fruitfull fields that offer'd but of late Their plenteous favours to our prosperous state See how they lie a ruinous heape and void Of all their plenty wasted and destroyde Our common foe hath sported with our lives Hath slaine our children and destroy'd our wives 〈…〉 poore distressed land doth grone Vnder that mischiefe that his hands have done â—â—dowes implore thee and poore Orphans tongues â—all to faire Delila to right their wrongs 〈◊〉 lies in thee to help Thy helpefull hand May haâ—e the Glory to revenge thy land For which our thankefull Nation shall allow Not onely honour but reward and thou From every hand that 's present here shall gaine 〈◊〉 a thousand Sicles for thy paine To whom faire Delila whom reward had tied To satisfie her owne desires replied My Lords My humble service I acknowledge due 〈◊〉 to my native country next to you If Heaven and Fortune have enricht my hand With so much power to relieve our Land When ere your honours please to call me to it 〈◊〉 Delila shall die or doe it Say then my Lords wherein my power may doe This willing Service to my land or you Thou knowest say they No forces can withstand The mighty strength of cursed Samsons hand 〈◊〉 ruines Armies and does overthrow 〈◊〉 greatest Bands nay kingdomes at a blow The limits of his more then manly powers Are not confin'd nor is his Arme like ours His strength is more then man his conquering Arme Hath sure th' assistance of some potent charme 〈◊〉 nothing but the glory of thine eyes Wherein a farre more strong enchantment lies 〈◊〉 overthrow He 's prisoner to thine eye 〈◊〉 canst thou aske what Samson can deny 〈◊〉 sweetnesse of thy language hath the Art To dive into the secrets of his heart Move Samson then unbarre his bolted brest And let his deafned eares attaine no rest Vntill his eye-inchanted tongue replyes And tells thee where his hidden power lyes Vrge him to whisper in thy private â—are And to repose his magicke mystr'y there How by what meanes
ayre-diuiding plumes She struggles often and she oft presumes To take the sanctuary of the open fields But finding that her hopes are vaine she yeelds Even so poore Samson frighted at the sound That rows'd him from his rest forsook the ground Perceiving the Philistians there at hand To take him pris'ner he began to stand Vpon his wonted Guard His threatning breath Brings forth the prologue to their following death He rowz'd himselfe and like a Lyon shooke His drowzy limmes and with a cloudy looke Fore-telling boystrous and tempestuous weather Defi'd each one defi'd them all together Now when he came to grapple he upheav'd His mighty hand but now alas bereav'd Of wonted power that confounding arme That could no lesse then murther did no harme Blow was exchang'd for blow wound for wound He that of late disdained to give ground Flies backe apace who lately stain'd the field With conquer'd blood does now begin to yeeld He that of late brake twisted Ropes in twaine Is bound with Packthred He that did disdaine To feare the power of an Armed Band Can now walke prisoner in a single hand Thus have the trecherous Philistines betray'd Poore captive Samson Samson now obay'd Those glowing eyes that whirled death about Where ere they view'd their cursed hands put out They led him pris'ner and convai'd him downe 〈◊〉 strong-wall'd d' Azza that Philistiâ—â— towne Those gates his shoulders lately bore away â—â—ere in the common Prison did they lay â—â—stressed Samson who obtain'd no meate 〈◊〉 what he purchas'd with his painfull sweate 〈◊〉 every day they urg'd him to fulfill 〈◊〉 twelve howres taske at the laborious Mill 〈◊〉 when his wasted strength began to tyre â—â—ey'd quicken his bare sides with whips of Wire â—â—ll'd was the towne with Ioy and Triumph All â—rom the high-Prince to th' Cobbler on the stall â—ept holy-day whilest every voice became â—oarse as the Trumpe of newes-divulging fame 〈◊〉 tongues were fill'd with shouts And every eare â—â—as growne impatient of the whisperer 〈◊〉 generall was their Triumph their Applause That children shouted ere they knew a cause The better sort betooke them to their knees Dagon must worship'd be Dagon that frees â—oth Sea and Land Dagon that did subdue 〈◊〉 common â—oe Dagon must have his due Dagon must have his praise must have his prize Dagon must have his holy Sacrifice Dagon has brought to our victorious hand â—roud Samson Dagon has redeem'd our land 〈◊〉 call to Dagon and our Dagon heares 〈◊〉 groanes are 〈◊〉 to holy Dagons eares To Dagon all renowne and Glory be Where is there such another God as Hee Medita 22. HOw is our story chang'd O more then strange Effects of so small time O sudden change Is this that holy Nazarite for whom Heaven shew'd a Miracle on the barren wombe Is this that holy Thing against whose Birth Angels must quit their thrones and visit Earth Is this that blessed Infant that began To grow in favour so with God and man What is this he who strengthn'd by heav'ns hand Was borne a Champion to redeeme the Land Is this the man whose courage did contest With a fierce Lyon grapling brest to brest And in a twinkling tore him quite in sunder Is this that Conquerour whose Arme did thunder Vpon the men of Askalon the power Of whose bent fist slew thirty in an hower Is this that daring Conquerour whose hand Thrasht the proud Philistines in their wasted land And was this He that with the helpe of none Destroy'd a thousand with a silly Bone Or He whose wrists being bound together did Break Cords like flax and double Ropes like thrid Is this the man whose hands unhing'd those Gates And bare them thence with pillars barrs Grates And is he turn'd a Mill-horse now and blinde Must this great Conquerour be forc'd to grinde For bread and water Must this Heroe spend His latter times in drudgery Must he end His weary dayes in darknesse Must his hyer Be knotted cords and torturing whips of wyer â—â—ere heaven withdraws the creaturs power shakes 〈◊〉 miserie 's wanting there where God forsakes 〈◊〉 Samson not abus'd his borrow'd power 〈◊〉 had still remain'd a Conquerour 〈◊〉 Philistins did act his part No doubt 〈◊〉 eyes offended and they pluck'd them out 〈◊〉 will be just He punishes a sin 〈◊〉 in the member that he findes it in â—â—en faithlesse Zacharias did become 〈◊〉 curious his lips were strucken dumbe 〈◊〉 whose lustfull view did overprize â—â—lawfull beautie's punisht in his eyes 〈◊〉 flaming eyes seduc'd his wanton minde 〈◊〉 act a sinne Those eyes are stricken blinde 〈◊〉 beauty he invaded did invade him 〈◊〉 that faire tong that blest him so betraid him 〈◊〉 strength intemperate lust imploy'd so ill 〈◊〉 a dâ—iving the laborious Mill 〈◊〉 naked sides so pleas'd with lusts desire 〈◊〉 now as naked lasht with whips of wire Lord shouldst thou punish every part in me 〈◊〉 does offend what member would be free 〈◊〉 member acts his part They never lin 〈◊〉 they joyne and make a Body ' of fin 〈◊〉 sinne my burthen Let it never please me 〈◊〉 thou hast promis'd when I come to ease me THE ARGVMENT They make a feast And then to crowne Their mirth blind Samson is brought thither He pulls the mighty pillers downe The Building falls All slaine together Sect. 23. THus when the vulgar Triumph which does last But seldome longer then the newes was past And Dagons holy Altars had surecast To breath their idle fumes they call'd a feast A common Feast whose bounty did bewray A common joy to gratulate the day Whereto the Princes vnder whose command Each province was in their diuided land Whereto the Lords Leiutenants and all those To whom the supreme Rulers did repose An under-trust whereto the better sort Of gentry and of Commons did resort With mirth and jolly triumph to allay Their sorrowes and to solemnize the day Into the common Hall they come The Hall Was large and faire Her arched roofe was all Builded with massie stone and over-lai'd With pond'rous Lead Two sturdy Pillers stai'd Her mighty Rafters up whereon relied The weighty burthen of her lofty pride When lusty dyet and the frollicke cup Had rouz'd and rais'd their quickned spirits up 〈◊〉 brave triumphing Bacchus had displaid 〈◊〉 conquering colours in their cheeks they said 〈◊〉 Samson forth He must not worke toâ— day 〈…〉 feast Wee 'l give him leave to play 〈…〉 bravely Does our Mill-horse sweat 〈◊〉 lacke nothing What he wants in meaâ—e 〈◊〉 in lashes He is strong and stout 〈◊〉 his breath can drive the Mill about 〈◊〉 too hard we feare Goe downe and free him 〈◊〉 that his Mistresse Delila would see him 〈◊〉 of him will take our howers short 〈◊〉 him then to make our Honours sport 〈◊〉 proviaâ— some Riddles Let him bring 〈◊〉 of Triumph He that 's blinde may sing 〈◊〉 better boldnesse Bid him never doubt 〈◊〉 What matter though his eyes be out 〈◊〉 dishonour that he cannot see 〈◊〉
the God of Love's as blinde as hee 〈◊〉 that they brought poore Samson to the Hall 〈◊〉 as he past he gropes to finde the wall 〈◊〉 paâ—â— was slow His feet were lifted high 〈◊〉 tongue would taunt him Every scornfull eye 〈◊〉 filld with laughter Some would cry aloud 〈◊〉 in state His Lordship is growne proud 〈◊〉 bid his honour â—asle whilst others cast â—prochfull termes upon him as he past 〈◊〉 would salute him fairely and embrace 〈◊〉 wounded sides then spit upon his face 〈◊〉 would cry For shame for heare t' abuse 〈◊〉 high and great redeemer of the Iewes 〈◊〉 gibe and flout him with their taunts quip◠〈◊〉 others flurt him on the starting lips 〈◊〉 that poore Samson whose abundant griefe 〈…〉 hopes of comfort or reliefe Resolv'd for patience Turning round he made Some shift to feele his Keeper out and said Good Sir my painfull labour in the Mill Hath made me bold although against my will To crave some little rest If you will please To let the Pillour but afford some ease To my worne limmes your mercy should relieve A soule that has no more but thanks to give The keeper yeelded Now the Hall was filld With Princes and their People that beheld Abused Samson whilst the Roofe retain'd A leash of thousands more whose eyes were chainâ—â— To this sad Object with a full delight To see this flesh-and-blood-relenting sight With that the pris'ner turnd himselfe and pray'd So soft that none but heaven could heare and saidâ— My God my God Although my sinnes doe cry For greater vengeance yet thy gratious eye Is full of mercy O remember now The gentle promise and that sacred vow Thou mad'st to faithfull Abram and his seed O heare my wounded soule that has lesse need Of life then mercy Let thy tender eare Make good thy plenteous promise now and heare See how thy cursed enemies prevaile Above my strength Behold how poore and fraile My native power is and wanting thee What is there Oh what is there Lord in me Nor is it I that suffer My desert May challenge greater vengeance if thou wert â—xtreme to punish Lord the wrong is thine The punishment is just and onely mine I am thy Champion Lord It is not me They strike at Through my sides they thrust at thee 〈◊〉 thy Glory 't is their Malice lies 〈◊〉 at that when they put out these eyes 〈◊〉 their blood-bâ—dabl'd hands would flie 〈…〉 thou but cloth'd in flesh as I 〈◊〉 thy wrongs great God O let thy hand 〈◊〉 thy suffring honour and this land 〈◊〉 â—e thy power Renew my wasted strength 〈…〉 fight thy bâ—ttels and at length 〈◊〉 thy glory that my hands may do 〈◊〉 faithfull service they were borne unto 〈…〉 thy power that I may restore 〈◊〉 and I will never urge thee more 〈◊〉 having ended both his armes he laid 〈◊〉 the pillours of the Hall and said 〈◊〉 with the Philistines I resigne my breath 〈◊〉 let my God finde Glory in my death 〈◊〉 having spoke his yeelding body strain'd 〈◊〉 those Marble pillours that sustain'd 〈◊〉 pondrous Roofe They cracket and with their fall 〈◊〉 fell the Battlements and Roofe and all 〈◊〉 with their ruines slaughter'd at a blow 〈◊〉 whole Assembly They that were below 〈◊〉 their sudden deaths from those that fell 〈◊〉 off the top whilst none was left to tell 〈◊〉 horrid shreckes that filld the spatious Hall 〈◊〉 ruines were impartiall and slew all 〈◊〉 fell and with an unexpected blow 〈◊〉 every one his death and buriall too Thus di'd our Samson whose brave death has won 〈◊〉 honour then his honourd life had done 〈◊〉 di'd our Conquerour whose latest breath 〈◊〉 crown'd with Conquest triumph'd over death 〈◊〉 di'd our Sampson whose last drop of blood â—deem'd heavn's glory and his Kingdome 's good Thus di'd heavens Champion and the earths bright Glory The heavenly subject of this sacred Story And thus th' impartiall hand of death that gathers All to the Grave repos'd him with his fathers Whose name shall flourish and be still in prime In spight of ruine or the teeth of Time Whose fame shal last till heaven shal please to free This Earth from Sinne and Time shall cease to be Medita 23. WAges of sinne is death The day must come Wherin the equall hand of death must sum The severall Items of mans fading glory Into the easie totall of one Story The browes that sweat for Kingdomes and renown To glorifie their Temples with a Crowne At length grow cold and leave their honourd name To flourish in th' uncertaine blast of Fame This is the heighth that glorious Mortalls can Attaine This is the highest pitch of Man The quilted Quarters of the Earths great Ball Whose unconfined limits were too small For his extreame Ambition to deserve Six foote of length and three of bredth must serve This is the highest pitch that Man can flie And after all his Triumph he must die Lives he in Wealth Does well deserved store Limit his wish that he can wish no more And does the fairest bounty of encrease Crown him with plenty and his dayes with peaceâ— It is a right hand blessing But supply Of wealth cannot secure him He must die Lives he in Pleasure Does perpetuall mirth 〈◊〉 him a little Heaven upon his earth â—eets he no sullen care no sudden losse 〈◊〉 coole his joyes Breathes hee without a crosse â—ants he no pleasure that his wanton eye 〈◊〉 crave or hope from fortune He must dye 〈◊〉 he in Honour Hath his faire desart â—â—tain'd the freedome of his Princes heart 〈◊〉 may his more familiar hands disburse 〈◊〉 liberall favors from the royall purse 〈◊〉 his Honour cannot soare too high 〈◊〉 palefac'd death to follow He must dye Lives he a Conqu'rour And doth heaven blesse 〈◊〉 heart with spirit that spirit with successe Successe with Glory Glory with a name To live with the Eternitie of Fame The progresse of his lasting fame may vye With time But yet the Conquerour must dye Great and good God Thou Lord of life and deth 〈◊〉 whom the Creature hath his being breath Teach me to underprize this life and I Shall finde my losse the easier when I dye So raise my feeble thoughts and dull desire That when these vaine and weary dayes expire I may discard my flesh with joy and quit My better part of this false earth and it Of some more sinne and for this transitory And tedious life enjoy a life of Glory The end SIONS SONETS Sung By SOLOMON the KING And PERIPHRAS'D By Fra. Quarles LONDON Printed by MILES FLESHER 1632. To the READERS REaders now you have them May the end of my paines be the beginâ—ing of your pleasures Excuse me for â—haring so high else give me leave to excuse my selfe Indeed I flew with Eagles feathers otherwise I had not flowne or falne It is the Song of Songs There present you with The Author King SOLOMON the wisest of Kings The matter mysticall the divinest of subjects
And froÌ„ their ragged wounds they suck forth blood The father dies and leaves his pined Coarse T' inrich his Heire with meat The hungry Nurse Broyles her starv'd suckling on the hastie coales Devoures one halfe and hides the rest in holes O Tyrant Famine that compell'st the Mother To kill one hungry Childe to feed another ELEG 11. LAment O sad Ierusalem lament O weepe if all thy teares be yet unspent Weepe wasted Iudâ—h let no drop be kept Vnshed let not one teare be left unwept For angry heaven hath nothing left undone To bring thy ruines to perfection No curse no plague the fierce Almighty hath Kept backe to summe the totall of his wrath Thy Citie burnes thy Sion is dispoyld Thy Wives are ravisht and thy Maides defil'd Famine at home the Sword abroad destroyes thee Thou cry'st to heav'n heav'n his â—are denies thee ELEG 12. MAy thy dull senses O unhappy Nation Possest with nothing now but desolation Collect their scatter'd forces and behold Thy novell fortunes ballanc'd with the old Couldst thou ô could thy prosp'rous heart coÌ„ceive That mortall powre or art of State could reive Thy ' illustrious Empire of her sacred glory And make her ruines the Threnâ—dian story Of these sad times and ages yet to be Envie could pine but never hope to see Thy buildings crusht and all that glory ended Which Man so fortifyde and Heav'n defended ELEG 13. NE're had the splendor of thy bright renowne Beene thus extinguisht ludah Thy fast Crowne Had ne're beene spurn'd from thy Imperiall brow Plenty had nurs'd thy soule thy peacefull plough Had fill'd thy fruitfull Quarters with encrease Hadst thou but knowne thy selfe and loved peace But thou hast broke that sacred truce concluded Betwixt thy God and thee vainly deluded Thy selfe with thine own strength with deadly feud Thy furious Priests and Prophets have pursude The mourning Saints of Sion and did sâ—ay All such as were more just more pure then they ELEG 14. O How the Priests of Sion whose pure light Should shine to such as grope in Errors night And blaze like Lampâ— before the darkned eye Of Ignorance to raise up those that lie In dull despaire and guide those feet that strey Ay me How blinde how darke how dull are they Fierce rage fury drives them through the street And like to mad men stabbe at all they meet They weare the purple Livery of Death And live themselves by drawing others breath Say wasted Sion could Revenge behold So foule an acted Scene as this and hold ELEG 15. PRophets and sacred Priests whose tongues whilere Did often whisper in th'Eternalls eare Disclos'd his Oracles found ready passage Twixt God and Man to carry heavens Embassage Are now the subjects of deserved scorne Of God forsaken and of man forlorne Accursed Gentiles are asham'd to know What Sions Priests are not asham'd to doe They see and blush and blushing flee away Fearing to touch things so defil'd as they They hate the filth of their abomination And chace them forth from their new conquer'd nation ELEG 16. QVite banisht from the joyes of earth and smiles Of heaven and deeply buried in her spoiles Poore Iudah lies unpitied disrespected Exil'd the World of God of Man rejected Like blasted eares among the fruitfull wheat She roames disperst and hath no certaine seat Her servile neck 's subjected to the yoake Of bondage open to th' impartiall stroake Of conquering Gentiles whose afflicting hand Smites every nooke of her disguised Land Of Youth respectlesse nor regarding Yeeres Nor Sex nor Tribe like scourging Prince Peers ELEG 17. REnt and deposed from Imperiall state â—y heavens high hand on heaven we must await To him that struck our sorrowes must appeale Where heaven hath smitâ— no hand of man can heale In vaine our wounds expected mans reliefe For disappointed hopes renew a griefe Aegypt opprest us in our fathers loynes What hope 's in Aegypt Nay if Aegypt joynes Her force with Iudah our united powres Could nere prevaile 'gainst such a foe as our's Aegypt that once did feele heavens scourge for grieving His flock would now refinde it for reliving ELEG 18. SO the quick-sented Beagles in a view O're hill and dale the fleeing Chase pursue As swift-foot Death and Ruine follow me That flees afraid yet knowes not where to flee Flee to the fields There with the sword I meet And like a Watch Death stands in every street No covert hides from death no Shade no Cells So darke wherein not Death and Horror dwells Our dayes are numbred and our number 's done The empty Houre-glasse of our glorie 's run Our sins are summ'd and so extreame 's the score That heauen could not doe lesse nor hell do more ELEG 19. TO what a downfall are our fortunes come Subjected to the suffrance of a doome Whose lingring torments Hell could not conspire More sharp than which hell needs no other fire How nimble are our Foemen to betray Our soules Eagles are not so swift as they Where shall we flee Or where shall sorrow finde A place for harbour Ah what prosp'rous winde Will lend a gale whose bounty ne're shall cease Till we be landed on the I le of peace My foes more fierce than empty Lions are For hungry Lions woo'd with teares will spare ELEG 20. VSurping Gentiles rudely have engrost Into their hands those fortunes we have lost Devoure the fruits that purer hands did plant Are plump and pampred with that bread we want And what is worse than death a Tyrant treads Vpon our Throne Pagans adorne their heads With our lost crowns their powers have dis-jointed The Members of our State and Heavens Anointed Their hands have crusht ravisht from his throne And made a Slave for Slaves to tread upon Needs must that flock be scattred and accurst where wolves have dar'd to seize the Shepherd first ELEG 21. WAxe fat with laughing Edom with glad eies Behold the fulnesse of our miseries Triumph thou Type of Antichrist and feed Thy soule with joy to see thy brothers â—eed Ruin'd and rent and rooted from the earth Make haste and solace thee with early mirth But there 's a time shall teachâ—thee how to weepe As many teares as I thy lips as deepe Shall drinke in sorrowes Cup as mine have done Till then cheere up thy spirits and laugh on Offended Iustice often strikes by turnes Edom â—eware for thy next neighbour burnes ELEG 22. YE drooping sonnes of Sion O arise And shut the flood-gates of your flowing eyes Surcease your sorrowes and your joyes attend For heaven hath spoke it and your griefes â—â—al end Beleeve it Sion seeke no curious signe And wait heav'ns pleasure as heav'n waited thine And thou triumphing Edâ—m that dost lye In beds of Roses thou whose prosp'rous eye Did smile to see the Gates of Sion fall Shalt be subjected to the selfe-fame thrall Sion that weepes shall smile and Edoms eye That smiles so fast as fast shall shortly cry The Prophet Ieremie his