lofty strutting steps disdain to tire My antick knees can turn upon the hinges Of Complement and skâ—…ue a thousand cringes 4 â—…ut when I come to Thee my God that art The royall Myne of everlasting treasure The reall Honour of my better part And living Fountain of eternall pleasure How nervelesse are my limbs how faint and flow I have nor wings to fly nor legs to go 5 So when the streams of swift-foot Rhene convay Her upland riches to the Belgick shore The idle vessel slides the wat'ry lay Without the blast or tug of wind or oare Her slipp'ry keel divides the silver fome With ease so facil is the way from home 6 But when the home-bound vessel turns her sails Against the breast of the resisting stream O then she slugs nor sail nor oare prevails The Stream is sturdy and her Tides extreme Each stroke is losse and ev'ry tug is vain A Boat-lengths purchase is a League of pain 7 Great All in All that art my rest my home My way is tedious and my steps are slow Reach forth thy helpfull hand or bid me come I am thy child O teach thy child to go Conjoyn thy sweet commands to my desire And I will venture though I fall or tire S. AUGUST Ser. 15. de Verb. Apost. Be alwayes displeased at what thou art if thou desirest to attain to what thou art not For where thou hast pleased thy self there thou abidest But if thou sayest I have enough thou perishest Alwayes adde alwayes walk alwayes proceed neither stand still nor go back nor deviate He that standeth still proceedeth not He goeth back that continueth not He deviateth that revolteth He goeth better that creepeth in 〈◊〉 way then he that runneth out of his way EPIG. 3. Fear not my Soul to lose for want of cunning Weep not Heav'n is not alwayes got by running Thy thoughts are swist although thy legs be slow True love will creep not having strength to go IV. PSALM 119. 120. My flesh trembleth for fear of thee and I am afraid of thy judgements LEt others boast of luck and go their wayes With their fair game know vengeance seldome playeâ—… To be too forward but doth wisely frame Her backward Tables for an after-game She gives thee leave to venture many a blot And for her own advantage hits thee not But when her pointed Tables are made fair That she be ready for thee then beware Then if a necessary blot be set She hits thee wins the game perchance the set If prosp'rous chances make thy casting high Be wisely temp'rate cast a serious eye On after dangers and keep back thy game Too forward seed-times make thy harvest lame If left-hand Fortune give thee left-hand chances Be wisely patient let no envious glances Repine to view thy gamesters heap so fair The hindmost Hound takes oft the doubling Hare The worlds great Dice are false sometimes they go Extremely high sometimes extremely low Of all her gamesters he that playes the least Lives most at ease playes most secure and best The way to win is to play fair and swear Thy self a servant to the Crown of fear Fear is the Primmer of a Gamesters skill Who fears not Bad stâ—…nds most unarm'd to Ill The Ill that 's wisely fear'd is half withstood And fear of Bad is the best foyl to Good True Fear 's th' Elixar which in dayes of old Turn'd leaden Crosses into Crowns of Gold The World 's the Tables Stakes Eternall life The Gamesters Heav'n and I Unequall strife My Fortunes are my Dice whereby I frame My indisposed Life this Life 's the Game My sinnes are sev'rall Blots the Lookers on Are Angels and in death the Game is done Lord I 'm a Bungler and my Game doth grow Still more and more unshap'd my Dice run low The Stakes are great my carâ—…lesse Blots are many And yet thou passest by and hitst not any Thou art too strong and I have none to guide me With the least jog the lookers on deride me It is a Conquest undeserving Thee To win a Stake from such a Worm as me I have no more to lose If we persever 'T is lost and that once lost I m lost for ever Lord wink at faults and be noâ—… too severe And I will play my Game with greater fear O give me Fear ere Fear has past her date Whose blot being hit then fears fears then too late S. BERN. Ser. 54. in Cant. There is nothing so eâ—…ectuall to obtain Grace to retain Grace and to regain Grace as alwayes to be sound before God nâ—…t over-wise but to â—…ear Happy art thou if thy heart be replenished with three â—…ears a sear for received Grace a gâ—…eater fear for lost Grace a greatest â—…ear to recover Grace S. AUGUST super Psalm Present fear begetteth Eternall securitie Fear God which 〈◊〉 above all and no need to fear man at all EPIG. 4. Lord shall we grumble when thy flames do seourge us Our sinnes breathe fire that fire returns to purge us Lord what an Alchymist art thou whose skill Transmutes to perfect Good from peâ—…fect ill V. PSALM 119. 37. Turn away mine eyes from regarding vanitie 1 HOw like to threds of flax That touch the flame are my inflam'd desires How like to yielding wax My soul dissolves before these wanton â—…ires The fire but touch'd the flame but felt Like flax I burn like wax I melt 2 O how this flesh doth draw My fetter'd soul to that deceitfull â—…ire And how th' eternall Law Is baffled by the law of my desire How truly bad how seeming good Are all the laws of flesh and bloud 3 O wretched state of men The height of whose ambition is to borrow What must be paid agen With griping int'rest of the next dayes sorrow How wild his thoughts How apt to range How apt to vary Apt to change 4 How intricate and nice Is mans perplexed way to mans desire Sometimes upon the ice He slips and sometimes falls into the â—…ire His progresse is extreme and bold Or very hot or very cold 5 The common food he doth Sustain his soul-tormenting thoughts withall Is honey in his mouth To night and in his heart to morrow gall 'T is oftentimes within an houre Both very sweet and very sowre 6 If sweet Corinna smile A Heav'n of joy breaks down into his heart Corinna frowns awhile Hels torments are but copies of his smart Within a lustfull heart doth dwell A seeming Heav'n a very Hell 7 Thus worthlesse vain and void Of comfort are the fruits of earths imployment Which ere they be enjoy'd Distract us and dâ—…stroy us in th' enjoyment These be the pleasures that are priz'd When Heav'ns cheap pen'worth stands despis'd 8 Lord quench these hasty flashes Which dart as lightning from the thund'ring skies And ev'ry minute dashes Against the wanton windows of mine eyes Lord close the casement whilst I stand Behind the curtain of thy hand S. AUGUST Soliloqu cap. 4. O thou Sun that illuminatest both
and wilt thou bring me to dust again THus from the bosome of the new-made earth Poore man was delv'd and had his unborn birth The same the stuffe the self-same hand doth trim The plant that fades the beast that dies and him One was their sire one was their common mother Plants are his sisters and the beast his brother The elder too beasts draw the self-same breath Wax old alike and die the self-same death Plants grow as he with fairer robes arraid Alike they slourish and alike they â—…ade The beast in sense exceeds him and in growth The three-ag'd oake doth thrice exceed them both Why look'st thou then so big thou little span Of earth What art thou more in being man I but my great Creatour did inspire My chosen earth with that diviner fire Of reason gave me judgement and a will That to know good this to chuse good from ill He put the rains of pow'r in my free hand And jurisdiction over sea and land He gave me art to lengthen out my span Of life and made me all in being man I but thy passion has committed treason Against the sacred person of thy reason Thy judgement is coâ—…rupt perverse thy will That knows no good and this makes choice of â—…ll The greater height sends down the deeper fall And good dâ—…clin'd turns bad turns worst of all Say then proud inch of living â—…arth what can Thy greatnesse claim the more in being man O but my soul transcends the pitch of nature Born up by th' Image of her high Creatour Outbraves the life of reason and beats down Her waxen wings kicks off her brazen crown My earth 's a living Temple t' entertein The King of Glory and his glorious train How can I mend my title then where can Ambition sind a higher style then man Ah but that Image is defac'd and soil'd Her Temple 's raz'd her Altars all desil'd Her vessels are polluted and distain'd With lothed lust her ornaments prophan'd Her oyl-forsaken lamps and hallow'd tapours Put out her incense breaths unsav'ry vapours Why swell'st thou then so giâ—… thou little span Of earth what art thou more in being man Eteâ—…nall Potter whose blest hands did lay My course foundation from a sod of clay Thou know'st my slender vessâ—…l's apt to leak Thou know'st my brittle temper 's prone to break Are my bones brazzil or my slesh of oake O mend what thou hast made what I have broke Look look with gentle eyes and in thy day Of vengeance Lord remember I am clay S. AUGUST Sâ—…liloq 32. Shall I ask who made me It was thou that madest me without whom nothing was made Thou art my maker and I thy work I thank thee my Lord God by whom I live and by whom all things suâ—…sist because thou madest me I thank thâ—… O my Potter because thy hands have made me because thy hands have formed me EPIO. 5. Why swell'st thou man pust up with fame and purse Th' art better earth but born to dig the worse Thou cam'st from eaâ—…th to earth thou must return And art but earth cast from the womb to th' urn VI JOB 7. 20. I have sinned what shall I do unto thee O thou preserver of men why hast thou set me as a mark against thee LOrd I have done and Lord I have misdone 'T is folly to contest to strive with one That is too strong 't is folly to assail Or prove an arm that will that must prevail I 've done I 've done these trembling hands have thrown Their daring weapons down the day 's thine own Forbear to strike where thou hast won the field The palm the palm is thine I yield I yield These ueach'rous hands that were so vainly bold To try a thrivelesse combat and to hold Self-wounding weapons up are now extended For mercy from thy hand that knee that bended Upon her guardlesse guard doth now repent Upon this naked floore See both are bent And sue for pitty O my ragged wound Is deep and desp'rate it is drench'd and drown'd In blood and briny tears It doth begin To stink without and putrifie within Let that victorious hand that now appears Just in my blood prove gracious to my tears Thou great Preserver of presumptuous man What shall I do what satisfaction can Poore dust and ashes make O if that bloud That yet remains unshed were half as good As bloud of oxen if my death might be An offering to attone my God and me I would disdain injurious life and stand A suiter to be wounded from thy hand But may thy wrongs be measur'd by the span Of life or balanc'd with the bloud of man No no eternall sinne expects for guerdon Eternall penâ—…nce or eternall pardon Lay down thy weapons turn thy wrath away And pardon him that hath no price to pay Enlarge that soul which base presumption binds Thy justice cannot loose what mercy finds O thou that wilt not bruise the broken reed Rub not my sores noâ—… prick the wounds that bleed Lord if the peevish infant fights and flies With unpar'd weapons at his mothers eyes Her frowns half mixt with smiles may chance to shew An angry love-trick on his arm or so Where if the babe but make a lip and cry Her heart begins to melt and by and by She coaks his dewy-cheeks her babe she blisses And choaks her language with a thousand kisses I am that child lo here I prostrate lie Pleading for mercy I repent and crie For gracious pardon let thy gentle ears Heare that in words what motheâ—…s judge in tears See not my 〈◊〉 Lord but through my fear And look on ev'ry trespasse through a tear Then calm thy anger and appear more mild Remember th' art a Father I a child S. BERN. Ser. 21. in Cant. Miserable man Who shall deliver me from the reproch 〈◊〉 this shamefull bondage I am a miserable man but a free man Free because like to God miserable because against God O keeper of mankind why hast thou set me as a mark against thee Thou hast set me because thou hast not hindred me It is just that thy enemy should be my enemy and that he who repugneth thee should repugne me I who am against thee am against my self EPIG. 6. But form'd and sight but boâ—…n and then rebell How small a blast will make a bubble swell But dare the â—…oore affront the hand that laid it So apt is dust to fly in 's face that made it VII JOB 13. 24. Wherefore hidest thou thy face and holdest me for thine enemy WHy dost thou shade thy lovely face O why Doth that eclipsing hand so long deny The Sun-shine of thy soul-enliv'ning eye Without that Light what light remains in me Thou art my Life my Way my Light in thee I live I move and by thy beams I see Thou art my Life If thou but turn away My life 's a thousand deaths thou art my Way Without thee Lord I travel not but stray My Light thou
Can ye quench his fire Did not the great Creatours voice proclaim What ere he made from the blue spangled frame To the poore leaf that trembles very Good Blest he not both the Feeder and the Food Tell tell me then what danger can accrue From such blest Food to such half-gods as you Curb needlesse fears and let no fond conceit Abuse your freedome woman Take and eat Eve 'T is true we are immortall death is yet Unborn and till rebellion make it debt Undue I know the Fruit is good untill Presumtuous disobedience make it ill The lips that open to this Fruit 's a portall To let in death and make immortall mortall Serp. You cannot die Come woman Tast and fear not Eve Shall Eve transgresse I dare not O I dare not Serp. Afraid why draw'st thou back thy tim'rous arm Harm onely fals on such as fear a harm Heav'n knowes and fears the virtue of this Tree 'T will make ye perfect Gods as well as He. Stretch forth thy hand and let thy fondnesse never Fear death Do pull and eat and live for ever Eve 'T is but an Apple and it is as good To do as to desire Fruit's made for food I le pull and tast and tempt my Adam too To know the secrets of this dainty Serp. Doe S. CHRYS. sup Matth. He forced him not He touched him not Onely said Cast thy self down that we may know whosoever obeyeth the Devil casteth himselfe down For the Devil may suggest compell he cannot S. BERN. in ser. It is the Devils part to suggest Ours not to consent As os◅ as we resist him so often we overcome him as often as we overcome him so often we bring joy to the Angels and glory to God Who proposeth us that we may contend and assisteth us that we may conquer EPIG. I. Unluckie Parliament wherein at last Both houses are agreed and firmly past An Act of death confirm'd by higher Powers O had it had but such successe as Ours II. JAMES 1. 15. Then when lust hath conceived it bringeth forth sinne and sinne when it is finished bringeth forth death 1 LAment lament Look look what thou hast done Lament the worlds lament thy own estate Look look by doing how thou art undone Lament thy fall lament thy change of State Thy faith is broken and thy freedome gone See see too soon what thou lament'st too late O thou that wert so many men nay all Abbridg'd in one how has thy desp'rate fall Destroy'd thy unborn seed destroy'd thy self withall 2 Uxorious Adam whom thy maker made Equall to Angels that excell in pow'r What hast thou done O why hast thou obey'd Thy own destruction Like a new-cropt flowre How does the glory of thy beauty fade How are thy fortunes blasted in an houre How art thou cow'd that had'st the pow'r to quell The spite of new-fall'n Angels baffle Hell And vie with those that stood and vanquish those that fell 3 See how the world whose chast and pregnant womb Of late conceiv'd and brought forth noth◅ng ill Is now degenerated and become A base Adultresse whose false births do fill The earth with Monsters Monsters that do rome And rage about and make a trade to kill Now Glutt'ny paunches Lust begins to spawn Wrath takes revenge and Avarice a pawn Pale Envie pines Pride swells and Sloth begins to yawn 4 The Aire that whisper'd now begins to rore And blustring Boreas blowes the boyling Tide The whit-mouth'd Water now usurps the shore And scorns the pow'r of her tridentall guide The Fire now burns that did but warm before And rules her ruler with resistlesse pride Fire Water Earth and Ai◅e that first were made To be subdu'd see how they now invade They rule whom once they serv'd cōmand where once obey'd 5 Behold that nakednesse that late bewray'd Thy glory now 's become thy shame thy wonder ◅ehold those Trees whose various fruits were made For food now turn'd a shade to shrowd thee under Behold that voice which thou hast disobey'd That late was musick now aff◅ights like thunder Poor man Are not thy joynts grown sore with shaking To view th' effect of thy bold undertaking That in one houre didd'st marre what heav'n six dayes was making S. AUGUST lib. 1. de lib. arbit It is a most just punishment that man should lose that freedome which man could not use yet had power to keep if he would and that be who had knowledge to do what was right and did not should be deprived of the knowledge of what was right and that he who would not do righteously when he had the power should lose the power to doit when he ◅ad the will HUGO de anima They are justly punished that abuse lawfull things but they are most justly punished that use unlawfull things Thus Lucifer fell from Heaven thus Adam lost his Paradise EPIG. 2. See how these fruitfull kernels being cast Upon the earth how thick they spring how fast A full-ear'd crop and thriving rank and proud Prepost'rous man first sow'd and then he plough'd III. PROVERBS 14. 13. Even in laughter the heart is sorrowfull and the end of that mirth is heavinesse 1 ALas fond Child How are thy thoughts beguil'd To hope for hony from a nest of wasps Thou maist as well Go seek for ease in hell Or sprightly Nectar from the mouths of asps 2 The world 's a hive From whence thou canst derive No good but what thy souls vexation brings Put case thou meet Some peti-peti sweet Each drop is guarded with a thousand stings 3 Why dost thou make These murm'ring troups forsake The safe protection of their waxen homes This hive contains No sweet that 's worth thy pains There 's nothing here alas but empty combes 4 For trash and toyes And grief-ingend'ring joyes What to◅ment seems too sharp for ◅lesh and bloud What bitter pills Compos'd of reall ills Man swallows down to purchase one false good 5 The dainties here Are least what they appear Though sweet in hopes yet in fruition sowre The fruit that 's yellow Is found not alwayes mellow The fairest Tulip 's not the sweetest flowre 6 Fond youth give ore And vex thy soul no more In secking what were better farre unfound Alas thy gains Are onely present pains To gather Scorpions for a future wound 7 What 's earth or in it That longer then a minit Can lend a free delight that can endure O who would droyl Or delve in such a soyl Where gain 's uncertain and the pain is sure S AUGUST Sweetnesse in temporall matters is deceitfull Il is a labour and a perpetuall fear it is a dangerous pleasure whose beginning is without providence and whose end is not without repentance HUGO Luxury is an enticing pleasure a bastard mirth which hath honey in her mouth gall in her heart and a a◅ing in her tail EPIG. 3. What Cupid are thy shafes already made And seeking honey to set up thy trade True Embleme of thy sweers Thy
Without a tenter It is a vast Circumference where none Can find a Center Of more then earth can earth make none possest And he that least Regards this restlesse world shall in this world find rest 5 True rest consists not in the oft revying Of worldly drosse Earths miâ—…ie purchase is not worth the buying Her gain is losse Her rest but giddy toil if not relying Upon her crosse How worldlings droil for trouble That fond breast That is possest Of earth without a crosse has earth without a rest CASS. in Ps. The Crosse is the invincible sanctuary of the humble The dejection of the proud the victory of Christ the destruction of the devil the confirmation of the faithfull the death of the unbeliever the life of the just DAMASCEN The Crosse of Christ is the key of Paradise the weak mans staff the Converts convoy the upright mans perfection the soul and bodies health the prevention of all evil and the 〈◊〉 of all good EPIG. 6. Worldlings whose whimpring folly holds the losses Of honour pleasure health and wealth such crosses Look here and tell me what your Arms engrosse When the best end of what ye hug's a crosse VII 1. PETER 5. 8. Be sober be vigilant because your adversary the devil as a roring Lion walketh about seeking whom he may devoure 1 WHy dest thou suffer lustfull sloth to creep Dull Cyprian lad into thy wanton browes Is this a time to pay thine idle vowes At Morpheus shrine Is this a time to sleep Thy brains in wastfull slumbers up and rouze Thy leaden spirits Is this a time to sleep Adjourn thy sanguine dreams Awake arise Call in thy thoughts and let them all advise Hadst thou as many Heads as thou hast wounded eyes 2 Look look what horrid furies do await Thy slatt'ring slumbers If thy drowzie head But chance to nod thou fall'st into a bed Of sulph'rous flames whose torments want a date Foâ—…d boy be wise let not thy thoughts be fed With Phrygian wisdome fools are wise too late Beware betimes and let thy reason sever Those gates which passion clos'd wake now or never For if thou nodd'st thou fall'st and falling fall'st for ever 3 Mark how the ready hands of death prepare His bow is bent and he has notch'd his dart He aims he levels at thy slumb'ring heart The wound is posting O be wise beware What has the voyce of danger lost the art To raise the spirit of neglected care Well sleep thy fill and take thy soft reposes But know withall sweet tasts have sowre closes And he repents in thorns that sleeps in beds of roses 4 Yet sluggard wake and gull thy soul no more With earths false pleasure and the worlds delight Whose fruit is fair and pleasing to the sight But sowre in tast false at the putrid core Thy flaring glasse is gems at her halflight She makes thee seeming rich but truly poore She boasts a kernell and bestowes a shell Performs an inch of her fair promis'd ell Her words protest a Heav'n her works produce a hell 5 O thou the fountain of whose better part Is earth'd and gravell'd up with vain desire That dayly wallow'st in the fleshly mire And base pollution of a lustfull heart That feel'st no passion but in wanton fire And own'st no torment but from Cupids dart Behold thy Type Thou sitst upon this ball Of earth secure while death that flings at all Stands arm'd to strike thee down where flames attend thy fall S. BERN. Securitie is no where It is neither in Heaven nor in Paradise much lesse in the world In Heaven the Angels sell from the divine presence in Paradise Adam sell from his place of pleasure in the world Judas sell from the School of our Saviour HUGO I eat secure I drink secure I sleep secure even as though I had past the day of death avoided the day of judgement and escaped the torments of hell-fire I play and laugh as though I were already triumphing in the kingdome of Heaven EPIG. 7. Get up my soul Redeem thy slavish eyes From drowzy bondage O beware Be wise Thy fo 's before thee thou must sight or flie Life lies most open in a closed eye VIII LUKE 6. 25. Woe be to you that laugh now for ye shall mourn and weep THe world 's a popular disease that reignes Within the froward heart and frantick brains Of poore distemper'd mortals oft arising From ill digestion through th' unequall poysing Of ill-weigh'd Elements whose light directs Malignant humours to maligne effects One raves and labours with a â—…oyling liver Rends hair by handfuls cursing Cupids quiver Another with a bloudy-slux of oaths Vowes deep revenge one dotes the other loathes One frisks and sings and vies a slagon more To drench dry cares and makes the welkin rore Another droops the sunshine makes him sad Heav'n cannot please One 's mop'd the tother 's mad One hugs his gold another lets it slie He knowing not for whom nor tother why One spends his day in plots his night in play Another sleeps and slugs both night and day One laughs at this thing tother cries for that But neither one nor tother knowes for what Wonder of wonders What we ought t' evite As our disease we hug as our delight 'T is held a symptome of approching danger When disacquainted Sense becomes a stranger And takes no knowledge of an old disease But when a noysome grief begins to please The unresisting sense it is a fear That death has parli'd and compounded there As when the dreadfull Thund'rers awfull hand Powres forth a vâ—…all on th' infected land At first th' affrighted Mortalls quake and fear And ev'ry noise is thought the Thunderer But when the frequent soul-departing bell Has pav'd their ears with her familiar knell It is reputed but a nine dayes wonder They neither fear the Thund'rer nor his Thunder So when the world a worse disease began To smart for sinne poore new-created Man Could seek for shelter and his gen'rous Sonne Knew by his wages what his hands had done But bold-fac'd Mortalls in our blushlesse times Can sinne and smile and make a sport of crimâ—… Transgresse of custome and rebell in ease We false-joy'd fools can triumph in disease And as the carelesse Pilgrime being bit By the Tarantula begins a sit Of life concluding laughter wast our breath In lavish pleasure till we laugh to death HUGO de anima What profit is there in vain glory momentany mirth the worlds power the â—…leshes pleasure â—…ll riches noble descent and great desires Where is their laughter Where is their mirâ—…h Where their insolence their arrogance From how much joy to how much sadnesse After how much mirth how much misery From how great glory are they 〈◊〉 to how great torments What hath â—…allen to them may bâ—…fall thee because thou art a man Thou art of earth thou liveâ—…l of earth thou shalt return to earth Death expecteth thee every-where be wise therefore and expect death every-where
art without thy glorious sight Mine eyes are darkned with perpetuall night My God thou art my Way my Life my Light Thou art my Way I wander if thou fly Thou art my Light If hid how blind am Iâ—… Thou art my Life If thou withdraw I die Mine eyes are blind and dark I cannot see To whom or whether should my darknesse flee But to the Light And who 's that Light but thee My path is lost my wand'ring steps do stray I cannot safely go nor safely stay Whom should I seek but thee my Path my Way O I am dead to whom shall I poore I Repair to whom shall my sad ashes fly But Life And where is Life but in thine eye And yet thou turn'st away thy face and fly'st me And yet I sue for grace and thou deny'st me Speak art thou angry Lord or onely try'st me Unskreen those Heav'nly lamps or tell me why Thou shad'st thy face perhaps thou thinkst no eye Can view those flames and not drop down and die If that be all shine forth and draw thee nigher Let me behold and die for my desire Is Phoenix like to perish in that fire Death conquer'd Laz'rus was redeem'd by thee If I am dead Lord see deaths prisner free Am I more spent or stink I worse then he If my pufft light be out give leave to tine My slamelesse-snuss at that bright Lamp of thine O what 's thy Light the lesse for lighting mine If I have lost my Path great Shepherd say Shall I still wander in a doubtfull way Lord shall a Iamb of Isr'els sheepfold stâ—…ay Thou art the 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the blind mans Eye The dead mans Life on thee my hopes rely If thou remove I erre I grope I die Disclose thy Sun-beams close thy wings and stay See see how I am blind and dead and stray O thou that art my Light my Life my Way S. AUGUST Soliloqu cap. 1. Why dost thou hide thy face Happily thou 〈◊〉 say none can see thy face and live Ah Lord let me die that I may see thee let me see thee that I may die I would not live but die That I may see Christ I desire death That I may live with Christ I despise life ANSELM Med. cap. 5. O excellent hiding which is become my persection My God Thou hidest thy treasure to kindle my desire Thou hidest thy pearl to inflame the seeker Thou delayest â—…o give that Thou maist teach me to importune seem'st not to hear to make mâ—… persever EPIG. 7. If 〈◊〉 all-quickning eyes vouchsafe to shine Upon our souls we slight If not we whine Our Equinoctiall hearts can never lie Secure beneath the Tropicks of that eye VIII JE REMIAâ—… 9. 1. O that my head were waters and mine eyes a fountain of tears that I might weep day and night O That mine eyes were springs and could transform Their drops to seas my sighs into a storm Of zeal and sacred violence wherein This lab'ring vèssel laden with heâ—… sinne Might suffer sudden shipwrack and be split Upon that rock where my drencht soul may sit O'rwhelm'd with plenteous passion O and there Drop drop into an everlasting tear Ah me that ev'ry sliding vein that wanders Through this vast Isle did work her wild meanders In brackish tears in stead of bloud and swell This flesh with holy dropsies from whose well Made warm with sighs may fume my wasting breath Whil'st I dissolve in steams and reek to death These narrow sluces of my dribbling eyes Are much too strait for those quick springs that rise And hourely fill my temples to the top I cannot shed for ev'ry sinne a drop Great builder of mankind why hast thou sent Such swelling flouds and made so small a ventâ—… O that this flesh had been compos'd of snow In stead of earth and bones of ice that so Feeling the fervour of my sinne and lothing The â—…ire I feel I might be thaw'd to nothing O thou that didst with hopefull joy entomb Me thrice three moons in thy laborious womb And then with joyfull pain broughtst forth a Son What worth thy labour has thy labour done What was there Ah! what was there in my birth That could deserve the easiest smile of mirth A man was born Alas and what 's a man A scuttle full of dust a measur'd span Of flitting Time a furnish'd pack whose wares Are sullen griefs and soul-tormenting cares A vale of tears a vessel tunn'd with breath By sicknesse brocht to be drawn out by deaâ—…h A haplesse helplesse thing that born doth cry To feed that feeds to live that lives to die Great God and Man whose eyes spent drops so often For me that cannot weep enough O soften These marble brains and strike this slintie rock Or if the musick of thy Peters cock Will more prevail fill fill my hearkning ears With that sweet sound that I may melt in tears I cannot weep untill thou broch mine eye Or give me vent or else I burst and die S. AMBROS. in Psal. 118. He that committeth sinnes to be wept for cannot weep for sianes committed And being himself most lamentable hath no tears to lament his offences NAZIANZ Orat. 3. Tears are the deluge of sinne and the worlds sacrifice S. HIERON. in Esaiam Prayer appeaseth God but a tear compelleth him That moveth him but this constraineth him EPIO. 8. Earth is an Island ported round with fears The way to Heav'n is through the Sea of tearsâ—… It is a stormy passage where is found The wrack of many a ship but no man drown'd IX PSALM 18. 5. The sorrows of hell compassed me about and the snares of death prevented me IS not this Type well cut In ev'ry part Full of rich cunning sill'd with Zeuxian Art Are not the hunters and their Stygian hounds Limm'd full to th' life didst ever heare the sounds The musick and the lip-divided breaths Of the strong-winded horn recheats and deaths Done more exact th' infernall Nimrods hollow The lawlesse Purliews and the game they follow The hidden engines and the snares that lie So undiscover'd so obscure to th' eye The new-drawn net and her entangled prey And him thae closes it Beholder say Is 't not well done seems not an em'lous strife Betwixt the rare cut picture and the life These Purliew-men are Devils and the Hounds Those quick-nos'd Canibals that scour the grounds Temptations and the Game these Fiends pursue Are humane souls which still they have in view Whose fury if they chance to scape by slying The skilfull Hunter plants his net close lying On th' unsuspected earth bayted with treasure Ambitious honour and self-wasting pleasure Where if the soul but stoop death stands prepar'd To draw the net and drawn the soul 's ensnat'd Poore soul how 〈◊〉 thou hurried to and fro Where canst thou safely stay where safely go If stay these hot-mouth'd hounds are apt to tear thee If go the snares enclose the nets ensnare thee What good in this bad world has pow'r t'
invite thee A willing guest wherein can earth delight thee Her pleasures are but itch her wealth but 〈◊〉 A world of dangers and a world of snares The close pursuers busie hands do plant Snares in thy substance Snares attend thy want Snares in thy credit Snares in thy disgrace Snares in thy high estate Snares in thy base Snares tuck thy bed and Snares arround thy board Snares watch thy thoughts and Snares attach thy word Snares in thy quiet Snares in thy commotion Snares in thy 〈◊〉 Snares in thy devotion Snares lurk in thy resolves Snares in thy doubt Snares lie within thy heart and Snares without Snares are above thy head and Snares beneath Snares in thy sicknesse Snares are in thy death O if these Purliews be so full of danger Great God of Harts the worlds sole sov'reigne Ranger Preserve thy Deere and let my soul be blest In thy safe Forrest where I seék for rest Then let the hell-hounds rore I fear no ill Rouze me they may but have no pow'r to kill S. AMBROS. lib. 4. in cap. 4. Lucae The reward of honours the height of power the delicacie of diet and the beautie of a harlot are the snares of the devil S. AMBROS. de bono mortis Whilest thou seekest pleasures thou runnest into snares for the eye of the harlot is the snare of the Adulterer SAVANAR In eating he setteth before us gluttony Iâ— generation luxury In labour sluggishnesse In conversing envy In governing covetousnesse In correcting anger In honour pride In the heart he setteth evil thoughts In the mouth evil words In actions evil works when awake he moveth us to evil actions when asleep to filthy dreams EPIG. 9. Be sad my Heart deep dangers wait thy mirth Thy soul 's way-laid by Sea by Hell by Earth Hell has her hounds Earth snares the Sea a shelf But most of all my Heart beware thy self X. PSALM 143. 2. Enter not into judgement with thy servant for in thy sight shall no man living be justified Jesus Justice Sinner Jes. BRing forth the prisner Justice Just Thy commands 〈◊〉 done just Judge See here the prisner stands Jes. What hath the prisner done Say what 's the cause Of his commitment Just He has broke the laws Of his too gracious God conspir'd the death Of that great Majesty that gave him breath And heapt transgression Lord upon transgression Jes. How know'st thou this Just Ev'n by his own confession His sinnes are crying and they cry'd aloud They cry'd to Heav'n they cry'd to Heav'n for bloud Jes. What say'st thou sinner hast thou ought to plead That sentence should not passe hold up thy head And shew thy brasen thy rebellious face Sin Ah me I dare not I 'm too vile and base To tread upon the earth much more to 〈◊〉 Mine eyes to Heav'n I need no other 〈◊〉 Then mine own conscience Lord I must confesse I am no more then dust and no whit lesse Then my 〈◊〉 styles me Ah if thou Search too severe with too severe a brow What flesh can stand I have transgrest thy laws My merits plead thy vengeance not my cause Just Lord shall I strike the blow Jes. Hold Justice stay Sinner speak on what hast thou more to say Sin Vile as I am and of my self abhorr'd I am thy handy-work thy creature Lord Stampt with thy glorious Image and at first Most like to thee though now a poore accurst Convicted catiff and degen'rous creature Here trembling at thy bar Just Thy fault 's the greater Lord sâ—…ll I strike the blow Jes. Hold Justice stay Speak sinner hast thou nothing more to say Sin Nothing but Mercy Mercy Lord my state Is miserably poore and desperate I quite renounce my self the world and flee From Lord to Jesus from thy self to thee Just Cease thy vain hopes my angry God has vow'd Abused mercy must have bloud for bloud Shall I yet strike the blow Jes. Stay Justice hold My bowels yearn my fainting bloud growes cold To view the trembling wretch me thinks I spy My fathers image in the prisners eye Just I cannot hold Jes. Then turn thy thirsty blade Into my sides let there the wound be made Chear up dear soul redeem thy life with mine My soul shall smart my heart shall bleed for thine Siâ—… O ground-lesse deeps O love beyond degree Th' offended dies to set th' offender free S. AUGUST Lord if I have done that for which thou maist damne me thou hast not lost that whereby thou maist save me Remember not sweet Jesus thy justice against the sinner but thy benignity towards thy creature Remember not to proceed against a guilty soul but remember thy mercy towards a miserable wretch Forget the insolence of the provoker and behold the misery of the invoker for what is Jesus but a Saviour ANSELM Have respect to what thy Sonne hath done for me and forget what my sinnes have done against thee My flesh hath provoked thee to vengeance let the flesh of Christ move thee to mercy It is much that my rebellions have deserved but it is more that my Redeemer hath marited EPIG. 10. Mercie of mercies He that was my drudge Is now my Advocate is now my Judge He suffers pleads and sentences alone Three I adore and yet adore but One XI PSALM 69. 15. Let not the water-flood overflow me neither let the deeps swallow me up THe world 's a Sea my flesh a Ship that 's mann'd With lab'ring Thoughts and steer'd by Reasons hand My Heart 's the Sea-mans Card whereby she sails My loose Affections are the greater Sails The Top-sail is my Fancie and the Gusts That sill these wanton sheets are worldly Lusts. Pray'r is the Cable at whose end appears The Anchor Hope nev'r slipt but in our fears My Will's th' unconstant Pilot that commands The stagg'ring Keel my Sinnes are like the Sands Repentance is the Bucket and mine Eye The Pump 〈◊〉 but in extremes and dry My Conscience is the Plummet that doth presse The deeps but seldome cries A sathom lesse Smooth Calm's security the Gulf despair My Fraught's Corruption and this Life 's my Fair My Soul 's the Passenger confus'dly driven From fear to fright her landing-Port is Heaven My Seas are stormy and my Ship doth leak My Saylers rude my Steersman saint and weak My Canvace torn it slaps from side to side My Cable 's crakt my Anchor's slightly ti'd My Pilot's craz'd my thipwrack-Sands are cloak'd My Bucket 's broken and my Pump is choak'd My Calm 's deceitfull and my Gulf too near My Wares are slubber'd and my Fare's too dear My Plummet 's light it cannot sink nor sound O shall my Rock-bethreatned Soul be drown'd Lord still the Seas and shield my Ship from harm Instruct my Sailours guid my Steersmans arm Touch thou my Compasse and renew my Sails Send stifter courage or send milder gales Make strong my Cable bind my Anchor faster Direct my â—…ilot and be thou his Master Object the Sands to my more serious
sinfull flesh and bloud To lend the smallest step to what is good My God I cannot move the least degree Ah! If but onely those that active be None should thy glory see none should thy glory see But if the Potter please t' inform the clay Or some strong hand remove the block away Their lowly fortunes soon are mounted higher That proves a vessâ—…l which before was mire And this being hewn may serve for better use then sire And if that life-restoring voyce command Dead Laz'rus forth or that great Prophets hand Should charm the sullen waters and begin To becken or to dart a stick but in Dead Laz'rus must revive and th' Axe must sloat again Lord as I am I have no pow'r at all To heare thy voyce or echo to thy call The gloomy Clouds of mine own guilt benight me Thy glorious beams nor dainty sweets invite me They neithâ—…r can direct nor these at all delight me See how my sin-bemangled body lies Nor having pow'r to will nor will to rise Shine home upon thy Creature and inspire My livelesse will with thy regen'rate fiâ—…e The first degree to do is onely to desire Give me the pow'r to will the will to do O raise me up and I will strive to go Draw me O draw me with thy treble twist That have no pow'r but merely to resist O lend me strength to do and then command thy list My Soul 's a Clock whose wheels for want of use And winding up being subject to th' abuse Of eating â—…ust wants vigour to fulfill Her twelve houres task and shew her makers skill But idly sleeps unmov'd and standeth vainly still Great God it is thy work and therefore good If thou be pleas'd to cleanse it with thy blood And wind it up with thy soul-moving keyes Her busie wheels shall serve thee all her dayes Her hand shall point thy pow'r her hammer strike thy praise S. BERN. Serm. 21. in Cant. Let us run let us run but in the savour of thy Ointments not in the confidence of our merits nor in the greatnesse of our strength we trust to run but in the multitude of thy mercies for though we run and are willing it is not in him that willeth nor in him that runneth but in God that sheweth mercy O let thy mercy return and we will run Thou like a Gâ—…ant runnest by thy own power we unlesse thy ointment breath upon us cannot run EPIG. 8. Look not my Watch being once repair'd to stand Expecting motion from thy Makers hand H' as wound thee up and cleans'd thy Cogs with blood If now thy wheels stand still thou art not good IX CANTICLES 8. 1. O that thou wert as my brother that sucked the breasts of my mother I would find thee without and I would kisse thee 1 COme come my blessed Infant and immure thee Within the Temple of my sacred arms Secure mine arms mine arms shall then secure thee From Herods fury or the high-Priests harms Or if thy danger'd life sustain a losse My folded arms shall turn thy dying crosse 2 But ah what savage Tyrant can behold The beauty of so sweet a face as this is And not himself be by himself controul'd And change his fury to a thousand kisses One smile of thine is worth more mines of treasure Then there be Myriads in the dayes of Cesar 3 O had the Tetrarch as he knew thy birth So known thy stock he had not sought to paddle In thy dear bloud but prostrate on the earth Had vaild his Crown before thy royall Cradle And laid the Sceptre of his Glory down And begg'd a Heav'nly for an Earthly Crown 4 Illustrious Babe how is thy handmaid grac'd With a rich armfull how dost thou decline Thy Majesty that wert so late embrac'd In thy great Fathers arms and now in mine How humbly gracious art thou to refresh Me with thy Spirit and assume my flesh 5 But must the treason of a traitours Hail Abuse the sweetnesse of these â—…uby lips Shall marble-hearted cruelty assâ—…il These Alabaster sides with knotted whips And must these smiling Roses entertain The blows of scorn and flurts of base disdain 6 Ah! must these dainty liâ—…tle sprigs that twine So fast about my neck be pieâ—…c'd and torn With ragged nails and must these brows resigne Their Crown of Glory for a crown of thorn Ah must this blessed Infant tast the pain Of deaths injurious pangs nay worse be slain 7 Sweet Baâ—…e At what dear rates do wretched I Commit a sinne Lord ev'ry sin 's a dart And ev'ry trâ—…spasse lets a javelin slie And ev'ry javelin wounds thy bleeding heart Pardon sweet Babe what I have done amisse And seal that granted pardon with a kisse BONAVENT Soliloqu Cap. 1. O sweet Jesu I knew not that thy kisses were so sweet nor thy society so sweet nor thy attraction so vertuous For when I love thee I am clean when I touch thee I am chast when I receive thee I am a virgin O most sweet Jesu thy embraces defile not but cleanse thy attraction polluteth not but sanctifieth O Jesu the Fountain of uniâ—…ersall sweetnesse pardon me that I believed so late that so much sweetnesse is in thy embraces EPIG. 9. My burden 's greatest Let not Aâ—…las boast Impartiall Reader judge which bears the most He bears but Heav'n my folded arms sustain Heav'ns maker whom Heav'ns Heav'n cannot contain X. CANTICLES 3. 1. In my bed by night I sought him that my soul loved I sought him but I found him not THe learned Cynick having lost the way To honest men did in the height of day By Taper-light divide his steps about The peopled streets to find this dainty out But fail'd The Cynick search'd not where he ought The thing he sought for was not where he sought The Wisemens task seem'd harder to be done The Wisemen did by Staire-light seek the Sonne And found the Wisemen search'd it where they ought The thing they hop'd to find was where they sought One seeks his wishes where he should but then Perchance he seeks not as he should nor when Another searches when he should but there He fails not seeking as he should nor where Whose soul desires the good it wants and would Obtain must seek Where As and When he should How often have my wild affections led My wasted soul to this my widdow'd bed To seek my Lover whom my soul desires I speak not Cupid of thy wanton fires Thy fires are all but dying sparks to mine My flames are full of Heav'n and all Divine How often have I sought this bed by night To find that greater by this lesser light How oft have my unwitnest grones lamented Thy dearest absence Ah how often vented The bitter tempests of despairing breath And tost my soul upon the waves of death How often has my melting heart made choice Of silent tears tears louder then a voyce To plead my grief and woo thy absent eare And yet thou wilt not come thou wilt