â—…nd seekest other waies these things for to obtaine 〈◊〉 fond and frantike is thy wit so feeble is thy braine Which way thou car'st not how rather than come to me Being the well and fountaine spring of all good things that be I also readie am on thee for to bestow Each good that is if thou but aske I must my kindnesse show Such is my loue to thee not changeable but sure I loued thee before thou wast which loue shall stil endure When thou a sinner wert and wickednesse didst vse To giue my bloud and life for thee the same did not refuse Thou art now iustifide by shedding of my bloud And reconciled by my death wherein thou art made good For I that knew not sin was yet made sinne for thee That thou mightst be the righteousneâ—… of th'onlie God in mee And I doe thee assure it did me greatlie please To beare thy sin and wickednes thy weakenes and disease â—…ou but trust in me â—…d stedfastlie beleeue â—…re shal no torment paine or smart â—…r any sinne thee greeue 〈◊〉 through my special grace â—…nd mercies great in store â—…omise thee I will henceforth â—…inke on thy sinne no more 〈◊〉 in the deepe alow â—…nd bottome of the Sea â—…ue all thine iniquities â—…or euer throwne awaie â—…y doost thou toile and moile â—…nd after shadowes run â—…d shun'st the waie that leads to me â—…hich am Gods onlie sonne 〈◊〉 the giuer sure â—…f true felicitie â—…d yet for it be very few â—…hat seeketh vnto me â—…utie allureth much â—…nd rauisheth the mind â—…d drawes vnto it flockes of men that louing seeme and kind â—…dlo behold and view nothing more faire to see â—…an I and yet not one there is will be in loue with me In honourable stiles doe many take delight And of ancient nobilitie doe claime descents by right And yet nothing there is of ancient high degree In title stile or chiefe descent that goeth before me For while I am the sonne of God most glorious And mother mine a virgine was and my name is Iesus Which name was giuen to me not vnaduisedly Nor at aduenture and by chance as names are commonly Nor was it giuen by man but by an angel sent To tell of my Natiuitie the purpose and intent And vnder heauen there is none other name but this Giuen vnto men their soules to saue from all their trespasses How hapneth it therefore that scarsely on the ground Can any one that willing is to ioyne with me be found â—…his societie â—…hich I so much desire 〈◊〉 not for me but for your good â—…hat I the same require 〈◊〉 the Monarch cheese of heauen of earth all â—…y then are you so loth and shamde to come when I you call â—…m most rich indeed and ready for to giue â—…th great and many benefites to all in saith that liue â—…reatly doe desire and very faine would haue â—…titions made that I might giue to such as on me craue â—…t now alas behold not one that vnderstands â—…ow for to aske nor come to me to craue ought at my hands â—…m the wisedome cal'd of God my father deare â—…nd so I am in very deed and yet for loue ne feare â—…ill any mortall wight vouchsafe to seeke me out â—…o aske me counsell of that thing whereof he is in doubt I am the brightnesse great of fathers glorie mine And of his heauenlie maiesty the image most diuine And yet no man thereby of what estate or gree The more to honour mooued is nor yet to reuerence me I am a pleasant friend a trustie friend also To him that willing is to be my friend and with me go I doe bestow my wealth my riches and my store On them I loue with willing mind what can be asked more And yet none goes about to enter in with me To this sweet amiable league of friendships high degree I am the only waie that vnto heauen doth lead And yet but very few there be that vse my pathes to tread Why doe the ignorant bâ—…tred people blind Not trust in me seeing I am the only truth to find 〈◊〉 then doost thou refuse â—…y promise to beleeue â—…e is so saithfull as I am â—…d none may more thee greeue 〈◊〉 sithe I am of life â—…e author and of breath â—…t meane you then by leauing me 〈◊〉 follow after death 〈◊〉 your only light 〈◊〉 darkenesse is in me 〈◊〉 yet will wilfull foolish men 〈◊〉 darkenesse rather be 〈◊〉 the perfect rule 〈◊〉 liuing righteouslie 〈◊〉 then doost thou seek other formes 〈◊〉 square thy life thereby â—…ely am alone â—…e pleasure sweet and true â—…hout all gall or bitternesse â—…iected yet of you 〈◊〉 the peace of mind â—…nd comforter likewise â—…ll afflicted consciences â—…hen stormie troubles rise â—…y then doe not these men â—…hat vexed be in mind â—…e vnto me for their releefe â—…hich they are sure to find If Lyons wilde and dumbe themselues can thankefull show To such as any benefite vpon them did bestow Or if the Dragons fierce haue gratefull learn'd to bee Or mastife curs their masters know and fawne when they him see If Eagles loue returne to such as keepe them well And Dolphins likewise kindnesse 〈◊〉 as you your selues can tell If other beastes likewise depri'ud of reasons sence Can to their benefactors vse both loue and reuerence Why wilt thou then ô Man thy selfe set forth to be More brutish than the sauage beastâ—… denying loue to me Seeing that to thy vse and onely for thy sake All things that be yea thou thy selfe of nothing did I make And with my precious bloud redeemed thee haue I From sin from death from hell pâ—… and that most willingly And if the oxe doth know his owner that him sed The asse likewise his maisters crib that standeth him in stead Why doost not thou vnkind and churlish man to mee Acknowledge me to be the same that hath redeemed thee am alone to thee all things that thou would haue And I alone will furnish thee with all things thou canst craue Why runnest thou about gadding from place to place To seeke elsewhere thy benesit distrusting of my grace Why busiest thou thy selfe in many needlesse waies And dost frequent the companie of skornefull wicked straies As I am mercifull so easie to intreat Thou wretched man seeke vnto me despaire not though I threat Yea sith I am the iust reuenger of thy sin Why therefore art thou not afraid me to offend therein I can euen with a becke cast downe thy soule to hell And yet my iudgements searest not nor all the thrents I tell Wherefore thou foolish man if thou so wilfull be Headlong to run vnto thy death by thy forsaking me Blame but thy selse therefore and blame not me at all For thou thy selfe the author art of thy decaie and fall For what can I doe more seeing th' excessiue loue That I thee bare with tender care can no whit thee remoue O flintie harted man with rockie stonie brest Which
memorie is weaker than before The Thebans held a law who threescore yeares did liue If after that he then fell sicke none might him physicke giue That age obtainde say they himselfe ought not to bend Longer to liue but hasten forth vnto his iournies end Experience dooth confirme and proueth this too true That lately such as lustie were in valor strength and hue Are now through age become all crooked to behold Their heads with white bespeckled are their heat is turnde to cold The frost their beards hath caught which maketh them to thinke How that the spring of their greene age is past and still doth shrinke OFlitting youth adieu age makes all things decline O too too short a fading floure of transitorie time Which by no waie nor art can be repair'd againe The winter cold the heat hath nipt and ransackt euerie vaine O greene and sprouting yeares ô gallant youth that 's past What sweet and pleasant merry daies were spent while you did last O happy time of life how slily doth it passe And steales away making exchange for purest gold but brasse How closely is it gone and not perceiu'd at all And glides away as doe the streames which downe a riuer fall More swift it may be said than emptie clouds that flie By force of winds that tosse them rounâ—… in compasse of the skie Like dreames that passe awaie within our sleepes we see When we awake nothing there is of that we dreamt to bee The sweet and fragrant rose now delicate in sight Within short time all withered is and turnd as daie to night And so likewise of man from child to man doth grow From man againe a childe becoms old age will haue it so WHile that the little boy with top and scurge gan plaieâ—… And while the stripling goes to schoolâ—… his grammer part to say While those of further yeares phylosophie doe read And cull the bloomes of Rhetorike and figures finely spread While they themselues delight 〈◊〉 in poets fables vaine â—…nd while they range in arguments 〈◊〉 which Logicke can maintaine â—…hile they the time imploie 〈◊〉 to publish matters small â—…hough of no weight by eloquence 〈◊〉 to shew their skill withall â—…hile like the bee they skip 〈◊〉 from bloome to blossome blowne â—…nd for their purpose sucke the fruit 〈◊〉 by sundrie authors sowne â—…hile they disposed so 〈◊〉 by studie to attaine â—…e knowledge of the liberall arts 〈◊〉 no labor doe refraine â—…d while that without end 〈◊〉 their troubled braines they beat 〈◊〉 find out euerie facultie 〈◊〉 grafted in science seat â—…ile they the Greeke translate 〈◊〉 in Latine for to goe â—…d Latine into Greeke likewise 〈◊〉 their cunning forth to shew â—…ile forren toongs they seeke 〈◊〉 their knowledge to maintaine â—…d feare not to transfret the seas 〈◊〉 and Alpes to clime with paine â—…ile they themselues acquaint with countries that be strange With forreÌ„ courts with things vnknâ—… and other things of change While they thus busie be stifle age comes stealing in And laies his crutch vpon their bacâ—… and dooth the maistrie win So much that they be driuen to maruell and to muse How that their strength so suddenly should them faile or refuse And though the same they feele yet not perswaded are That lustie gallant youth of theirs should be remoou'd so far ALas why should we then so carefullie appeare As to consume our golden age with search of trifles here As pearles and gems of price of gold and siluer pure Of scarlet silke and cloth of gold which may not long endure And wast fully consume and wilfully to spend Our golden yeares in vanities and all to no good end Againe if that those things which transitorie be â—…re lost or stolne or burnt with fire there is a meane we see â—…e same may be in time recouered againe â—…hou as poore as Codrus were â—…or Irus did remaine â—…t hope to be as rich â—…as Crassus heretofore 〈◊〉 that thy substance and thy wealth may match with Croesus store â—…t as for creeping age when Clotho hath begun â—…on hir clew thy thred to wind that Lachesis had spun â—…n neuer be reuok't againe to be vntwinde â—…no inchantment charme or force that wit of man can finde NOt Circes with hir charme nor Mercurie with his rod â—…or yet Medea with hir drugs can stay this worke of God Iupiter himselfe thy bellie full would fill â—…ith Nectar and Ambrosia which some of learned skil â—…aue writ that by such things youth still they might maintaine And banish old age in exile for euer to remaine No no it will not be though that Aurora faire Would day by daie thy bodie bath with deaw of heauenly aire No though ten thousand times sweet Venus for to please Thou paine thy selfe as Phao did to ferry Chyos seas No though Chiron himselfe should vnto thee applie All soueraigne hearbs that spring or 〈◊〉 on earth beneath the skie Nothing there is can stop the course of yeares that slide Nor keepe them from our weary backe but must the same abide In deed of tales we read and fables haue beene told How Orpheus and Amphion with other poets old Haue by their magicke art made riuers still to staie And to returne vnto those springs backeward another waie Diana stopt hir coach Phoebus his steeds so staid â—…ade his chariot still to stand 〈◊〉 listen what they said 〈◊〉 let these idle tales 〈◊〉 thought vpon no more wroght â—…f they could such things haue 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 is said before 〈◊〉 might they bring â—…e age thou once possest keepe thee in the age thou art â—…ile life is in thy breast 〈◊〉 yet the sunne goes downe â—…d takes his beames awaie doth arise most gloriouslie â—…e next insuing day moone a waining hath â—…t afterward a change 〈◊〉 doth receiue hir former light â—…d reuolution strange â—…er growes yong againe 〈◊〉 frostie cold once spent â—…er turn'd into a spring â—…at doth vs well content yet the state of age â—…at flits awaie so fast 〈◊〉 when the summer time thereof 〈◊〉 once consum'd and past 〈◊〉 that the winter sharpe â—…th horie frost and cold 〈◊〉 the head and withered face with snow hath taken hold No hope is then at all for any spring to crie Nor yet for any Ver to come where root and stocke is drie THere resteth now but this of remedies the best Which is that death those euils shalâ—… and set the soule at rest We learne for to be wise too late when youth is gone And doe begin to muse thereof when remedie is none We then bewaile our life in vanitie mispent And doo detest those wilfull waies we did in youth frequent We curse that now in age which youth delighted in And that which then most sweet didâ—… is now most bitter sin The thoughts thereof torment our guiltie conscience sore With greefe and paine we doe lamenâ—… our youth abusde before And to our selues gan saie what treasure haue we spilt And reapt thereby vnto our selues 〈◊〉 sorrow death
and guilt life God knowes is short â—…certaine of the same â—…inke on time so vainlie spent â—…ight make vs blush with shame 〈◊〉 sleepe let vs awake â—…d rise from sin at last 〈◊〉 time it is for to repent â—…r former follies past youth hath taken horsse â—…d posteth day by daie â—…ite and summon pale face death â—…th speed to come away â—…th is the true refuge â—…e onely perfect health dooth deserue to be embrast â—…fore all worldlie wealth â—…th is the thing most deare â—…e best thing to be had a thing that God hath giuen â—…herewith to make vs glad â—…an with his estate â—…ntented is we see 〈◊〉 those that lie asleepe in graue â—…ey well contented be graue is a strong fort â—…herein our selues we shut 〈◊〉 the assaults of yrkesome life â—…d broiles of Fortunes cut The dead we know doo rest as in a hauen of ease Where those that liue doe saile inâ—… of rough and raging seas Death is vnto the euill a whip of smarting paine And to the good a sweet reward of euerlasting gaine THe common custome is to flatter them that liue And of the dead reprochfull words and ill reports to giue But sure the fault is great to speake ill of the dead Who harme them not but quietlie doe rest within their bed As no man is so good but better might haue beene So no man liues that is so bad but worsser name might win For as there is some cause a man for to dispraise So in the same some vertue dwels that his renowme might raise And therefore of the dead I wish to speake the best And praise the vertues which they 〈◊〉 and let their vices rest â—…s our course direct â—…ile perfect mind we haue set our compasse toward Christ â—…o onely must vs saue â—…im from henceforth now â—…r onely studie be pleasant muse our cheese delight â—…r ioy and libertie â—…s not care at all â—…r worldlie matters vaine for the bodie so the soule â—…th Iesus Christ remaine â—…e soule and bodie both â—…ll at the iudgement daie â—…ed be and sentence heare â—…ich Christ himselfe shall say â—…h grant ô father deare 〈◊〉 Christ his sake thy sonne â—…e vnto our endlesse ioy life that is to come Amen FINIS The spiriâ—… God moâ—… on the waâ—… God saâ—â—â— the light 〈◊〉 goâ—… did câ—… the light daâ—… and the dâ—… night The light 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 beforâ—… the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 moone waâ—… created The water in the clouds 〈◊〉 be waters of the sea riuers 〈◊〉 That is the region of the â—…yre and all â—…hat is about us 〈◊〉 God calleth â—…he dry land â—…he earth â—…he gathering â—…ogether of â—…aters called 〈◊〉 the seaâ—… The earth 〈◊〉 bâ—…d 〈◊〉 of God â—â—ght â—…orth 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 â—…nd hearb 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 forth â—…heir fruite 〈◊〉 in their â—…nd before 〈◊〉 moâ—…n 〈◊〉 starres 〈◊〉 created These lighâ—… were the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Both fisâ—… and foule 〈◊〉 beginâ—… wherin 〈◊〉 that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 God 's 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 â—…fly the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 â—…hat is God â—…ue them po â—…er to increse â—…n 8 12. The creâ—…tioÌ„ Adam in field of â—…asco 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 same he was â—…ught into â—…se sinned and the sam day after mid-day he was thrust outâ—… Method usb The propagation of maâ—… is the blessing of God Gen. 8. 20. 9. Gods great liberalitie to man taketh aâ—… waie al excuses of mans ingratitude That is the 〈◊〉 the moon â—…he stars â—…nets The 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Goâ—… est shew 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 he 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 that 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the 〈◊〉 be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 â—…ed 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 tra 〈◊〉 the sin Adâ—… the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 â—…as the fulfil 〈◊〉 and perâ—…tion of all 〈◊〉 worâ—…â—…if God had 〈◊〉 ended his work in mercy the 7. day abated hâ—… hard iudgement against mankind for Adams sin his work haâ—… not bin complet ne perâ—… insomuch as the principâ—… creature for whoÌ„ he madâ—… all things wâ—… lost for wheâ—… the final caâ—… of any thinâ—… faileth the worke is not complete 〈◊〉 perfâ—…t