teach VVhose textes to faithfull harts neede little glosing VVitnesse vnworthy I who in a looke Learn'd more by rote then all the scribes by booke Tough malice still possest theyr hardned minds I though too hard learn'd softnes in thine eye VVhich yron knots of stubborne will vnbinds Offring them loue that loue with loue will buy Thys did I learne yet they could not discerne it But woe that I had now such neede to learne it O Sunnes all but your selues in light excelling VVhose presence day whose absence causeth night VVhose neighbour course brings Sommer colde expelling VVhose distant periods freeze away delight Ah that I lost your bright and fostring beames To plunge my soule in these congealed streames O gracious spheres where loue the Center is A natiue place for our selfe-loaden soules The compasse loue a cope that none can mis The motion loue that round about vs rowles O Spheres of loue whose Center cope and motion Is loue of vs loue that inuites deuotion O little worlds the summes of all the best VVhere glory heauen God sonne all vertues stars VVhere fire a loue that next to heauen doth rest Ayre light of life that no distemper marres The water grace whose seas whose springes whose showers Cloth natures earth with euerlasting flowers VVhat mixtures these sweet elements do yeeld Let happy worldlings of those worlds expound But simples are by compounds farre exceld Both sute a place where all best things abound And if a banisht wretch gesse not amisse All but one compound frame of perfect blisse I out-cast from these worlds exiled rome Poore Saint from heauen from fire cold Salamander Lost fish from those sweet waters kindly home From land of life stray'd pilgrim still I wander I know the cause these worlds had neuer hell In which my faults haue best deseru'd to dwell O Bethelem cesterns Dauids most desire From which my sinnes like fierce Philistims keepe To fetch your drops what champions should I hire That I therein my withered heart may steepe I would not shed them like that holy king His were but tipes these are the figured thing O turtle twins all bath'd in virgins milke Vpon the margin of full flowing bankes VVhose gracefull plume surmounts the finest silke VVhose sight enamoreth heauens most happie rankes Could I forsweare this heauenly paire of doues That cag'd in care for me were groning loues Twice Moses wand did strike the stubborne rocke Ere stony veynes would yeeld their christall blood Thy eyes one looke seru'd as an onely knocke To make my hart gush out a weeping flood VVherein my sinnes as fishes spawne their frye To shew their inward shames and then to dye But ô how long demurre I on his eyes VVhose looke did pearce my hart with healing wound Launcing impostumd sore of periurd lyes VVhich these two issues of mine eyes hath found VVhere runne it must till death the issues stop And penall life hath purgd the finall drop Like solest Swan that swimmes in silent deepe And neuer sings but obsequies of death Sigh out thy plaints and sole in secret weepe In suing pardon spend thy periurd breath Attire thy soule in sorrowes mourning weede And at thine eyes let guiltie conscience bleede Still in the limbecke of thy dolefull breast These bitter fruits that from thy sinnes do grow For fuel selfe accusing thoughts be best Vse feare as fire the coales let pennance blow And seeke none other quintescence but teares That eyes may shed what entred at thine eares Come sorrowing teares the of spring of my griefe Scant not your parent of a needefull aide In you I rest the hope of wish'd reliefe By you my sinnefull debts must be defraide Your power preuailes your sacrifice is gratefull By loue obtayning life to men most hatefull Come good effects of ill deseruing cause Ill gotten impes yet vertuously brought forth Selfe-blaming probates of infringed lawes Yet blamed faults redeeming with your worth The signes of shame in you each eye may read Yet while you guiltie proue you pittie plead O beames of mercy beate on sorrowes clowde Poure suppling showres vpon my parched ground Bring forth the fruite to your due seruice vowde Let good desires with like deserts be crownd VVater young bloming vertues tender flower Sinne did all grace of riper groth deuower VVeepe Balme and mirrhe you sweet Arabian trees VVith purest gummes perfume and pearle your ryne Shed on your hony drops you busie bees I barraine plaint must weepe vnpleasant bryne Hornets I hyue salt drops their labour plyes Suckt out of sinne and shed by showring eyes If Dauid night by night did bath his bed Esteeming longest dayes to short too mone Inconsolable teares if Anna shed VVho in her sonne her solace had forgone Then I to dayes and weekes to months and yeares Do owe the hourely rent of stintlesse teares If loue if losse if fault if spotted fame If daunger death if wrath or wrecke of weale Entitle eyes true heires to earned blame That due remorse in such euents conceale Then want of teares might well enroll my name As chiefest Saint in Calender of shame Loue where I lou'd was due and best deseru'd No loue could ayme at more loue-worthy marke No loue more lou'd then mine of him I seru'd Large vse he gaue a flame for euery spark This loue I lost this losse a life must rue Yea life is short to pay the ruth is due I lost all that I had and had the most The most that will can wish or wit deuise I least performd that did most vainely boast I staind my fame in most infamous wise VVhat daunger then death wrath or wreck can moue More pregnant cause of teares then this I proue If Adam sought a veyle to scarfe his sinne Taught by his fall to feare a scourging hand If men shall wish that hils should wrap them in VVhen crymes in finall doome come to be scand VVhat mount what caue what center can conceale My monstrous fact which euen the birds reueale Come shame the liuery of offending minde The ougly shroud that ouershadoweth blame The mulct at which foule faults are iustly fynde The dampe of sinne the common sluce of fame By which impostum'd tongues their humors purge Light shame on me I best deseru'd the scourge Caines murdering hand imbrude in brothers blood More mercy then my impious toung may craue He kild a riuall with pretence of good In hope Gods doubled loue alone to haue But feare so spoild my vanquisht thoughts of loue That periurde oathes my spightfull hate did proue Poore Agar from her phere enforc'd to flye VVandring in Barsabeian wildes alone Doubting her child throgh helples drought would dye Laide it aloofe and set her downe to moane The heauens with praiers her lap with teares she fild A mothers loue in losse is hardly stild But Agar now bequeath thy teares to me Feares not effects did set aflote thine eyes But wretch I feele more then was feard of thee
abiure Could seruile feare of rendring natures due VVhich growth in yeeres was shortly like to claime So thrall my loue that I should thus eschue A vowed death and misse so faire an ayme Die die disloyall wretch thy life detest For sauing thine thou hast forsworne the best Ah life sweet drop drownd in a sea of sowers A flying good posting to doubtfull end Still loosing months and yeeres to gaine new howers Faine time to haue and spare yet forst to spend Thy growth decrease a moment all thou hast That gone ere knowne the rest to come or past Ah life the maze of countlesse straying waies Open to erring steps and strow'd with baits To winde weake sences into endlesse strayes A loofe from vertues rough vnbeaten straights A flower a play a blast a shade a dreame A liuing death a neuer turning streame And could I rate so high a life so base Did feare with loue cast so vneuen account That for this goale I should runne Iudas race And Caiphas rage in crueltie surmount Yet they esteemed thirtie pence his price I worse then both for nought deny'd him thrise The mother sea from ouerflowing deepes Sends forth her issue by diuided vaines Yet backe her of-spring to theyr mother creepes To pay theyr purest streames with added gaines But I that drunke the drops of heauenly flud Bemyr'd the gyuer with returning mud Is this the haruest of his sowing toyle Did Christ manure thy hart to breed him bryers Or doth it need this vnaccustomd soyle VVith hellish dunge to fertile heauens desires No no the Marle that periuries doth yeeld May spoyle a good not fat a barraine field VVas this for best deserts the duest meede Are highest worthes well wag'de with spitefull hire Are stoutest vowes repeal'd in greatest neede Should friendship at the first affront retire Blush crauen sott lurke in eternall night Crouch in the darkest caues from loathed light Ah wretch why was I nam'd sonne of a doue VVhose speeches voyded spight and breathed gall No kin I am vnto the bird of loue My stony name much better sutes my fall My othes were stones my cruell tongue the sling My God the marke at which my spight did fling VVere all the Iewish tiranies too few To glut thy hungry lookes with his disgrace That thou more hatefull tirannies must shew And spit thy poyson in thy Makers face Didst thou to spare his foes put vp thy sword To brandish now thy tongue against thy Lord Ah tongue that didst his prayse and Godhead sound How wert thou stain'd with such detesting words That euery word was to his hart a wound And launst him deeper then a thousand swordes VVhat rage of man yea what infernall spirite Could haue disgorg'd more loathsome dregs of spite VVhy did the yeelding sea like marble way Support a wretch more wauering then the waues VVhom doubt did plunge why did the water stay Vnkind in kindnesse murthering while it saues O that this toung had then been fishes food And I deuour'd before this cursing moode Their surges depthes and seas vnfirme by kinde Rough gusts and distance both from ship and shoare VVere titles to excuse my staggering minde Stout feete might falter on that liquid floare But here no seas no blastes no billowes were A puffe of womans winde bred all my feare O coward troupes far better arm'd then harted VVhom angry words whom blowes could not prouok VVhom though I taught how sore my weapon smarted Yet none repaide me with a wounding stroke O no that stroke could but one moitie kill I was reseru'd both halfes at once to spill Ah whether was forgotten loue exilde VVhere did the truth of pledged promise sleepe VVhat in my thoughts begat this ougly child That could through rented soule thus fircely creepe O viper feare their death by whom thou liuest All good thy ruynes wrecke all euels thou giuest Threats threw me not torments I none assayde My fray with shades conceits dyd make me yeeld VVounding my thoughts with feares selfely dismayd I neyther fought nor lost I gaue the field Infamous foyle a Maidens easie breath Dyd blow me downe and blast my soule to death Titles I make vntruths am I a rocke That with so soft a gale was ouer-throwne Am I fit Pastor for the faithfull flocke To guide theyr soules that murdred thus mine owne A rock of ruine not a rest to stay A Pastor not to feed but to betray Fidelitie was flowne when feare was hatched Incompatible brood in vertues nest Courage can lesse with cowardise be matched Prowesse nor loue lodg'd in deuided brest O Adams child cast by a sillie Eue Heire to thy Fathers foyles and borne to greeue In Thabors ioyes I eger was to dwell An earnest friend while pleasures light did shine But when ecclipsed glory prostrate fell These zealous heates to sleepe I did resigne And now my mouth hath thrise his name defil'd That cry'd so loud three dwellings there to build VVhen Christ attending the distressefull hower VVith his surcharged brest did blesse the ground Prostrate in pangs rayning a bleeding shower Me like my selfe a drowsie friend he found Thrise in his care sleepe closde my carelesse eye Presage how him my tongue should thrise deny Parting from Christ my fainting force declin'd VVith lingring foote I followed him a loofe Base feare out of my hart his loue vnshrind Huge in high words but impotent in proofe My vaunts did seeme hatcht vnder Sampsons locks Yet womans wordes did giue me murdring knocks So farre luke warme desires in crasie loue Farre off in neede with feeble foote they trayne In tydes they swimme low ebbes they scorne to proue They seeke their friends delights but shun their paine Hire of a hireling minde is earned shame Take now thy due beare thy begotten blame Ah coole remisnes vertues quartane feuer Pyning of loue consumption of grace Old in the cradle languor dying euer Soules wilfull famine sinnes soft stealing pace The vndermining euill of zealous thought Seeming to bring no harmes till all be brought O portresse of the doore of my disgrace VVhose toung vnlockt the truth of vowed minde VVhose wordes from cowardes hart did courage chase And let in death-full feares my soule to blinde O hadst thou been the portresse to my tombe VVhen thou wert portresse to that cursed roome Yet loue was loath to part feare loath to die Stay daunger life did counterplead their causes I fauouring stay and life bad daunger flie But daunger did except against these clauses Yet stay and liue I would and daunger shunne And lost my selfe while I my verdict wonne I stayde yet did my staying farthest part I liu'd but so that sauing life I lost it Daunger I shun'd but to my sorer smart I gayned nought but deeper domage crost it VVhat daunger distance death is worse then this That runnes from God and spoyles his soule of blisse O Iohn my guide into this earthly hell Too well acquainted in so ill a court VVhere rayling mouthes with
shop of shame trade sorrowes ware Pleasd with displeasing lot I seeke no change I wealthiest am when richest in remorce To fetch my ware no seas nor lands I range For customers to buy I nothing force My home-bred goods at home are bought and sold And still in me the interest I hold My comfort now is comfortlesse to liue In Orphan state deuoted to mishap Rent from the roote that sweetest fruit did giue I scorn'd to graffe in stocke of meaner sap No iuice can ioy me but of Iesse flower VVhose heauenly roote hath true reuiuing power At sorrowes dore I knockt they crau'd my name I aunswered one vnworthy to be knowne VVhat one say they one worthiest of blame But who a wretch not Gods nor yet his owne A man O no a beast much worse what creature A rocke how cald the rocke of scandale Peter From whence from Caiphas house ah dwell you there Sinnes farme I rented there but now would leaue it VVhat rent my soule what gaine vnrest and feare Deere purchase Ah too deere will you receiue it VVhat shall we giue fit teares and times to plaine me Come in say they thus griefes did entertaine me VVith them I rest true prisoner to theyr Iayle Chain'd in the yron linkes of basest thrall Tyll grace vouchsafing captiue soule to bayle In wonted See degraded loues enstall Dayes passe in plaints the nights without repose I wake to weepe I sleepe in waking woes Sleepe deaths allye obliuion of teares Silence of passions balme of angry sore Suspence of loues securitie of feares VVrathes lenitiue harts ease stormes calmest shore Sences and soules repriuall from all cumbers Benumming sence of ill with quiet slumbers Not such my sleepe but whisperer of dreames Creating strange chymeraes fayning frights Of day discourses giuing fansie theames To make dumme shewes with worlds of antick sights Casting true griefes in fansies forging mold Brokenly telling tales rightly fore-told This sleepe most fitly suteth sorrowes bed Sorrow the smart of euill Sinnes eldest child Best when vnkind in killing who it bred A racke for guiltie thoughts a bit for wild The scourge that whips the salue that cures offence Sorrow my bed and home while life hath sence Heere solitary Muses nurse my griefes In silent lonenesse burying worldly noyse Attentiue to rebukes deafe to reliefes Pensiue to foster cares carelesse of ioyes Ruing lifes losse vnder deathes dreary roofes Solemnizing my funerall behoofes A selfe contempt the shroud my soule the corse The beere an humble hope the herse cloth feare The mourners thoughts in blacks of deepe remorse The herse grace pittie loue and mercy beare My teares my dole the priest a zealous will Pennance the tombe and dolefull sighes the knill Christ health of feuer'd soule heauen of the mind Force of the feeble nurse of Infant loues Guide to the wandring foote light of the blind VVhom weeping winnes repentant sorrow moues Father in care mother in tender hart Reuiue and saue me slaine with finnefull dart If king Manasses sunke in depth of sinne VVith plaints and teares recouered grace and crowne A worthlesse worme some milde regard may winne And lowly creepe where flying threw it downe A poore desire I haue to mend my ill I should I would I dare not say I will I dare not say I will but wish I may My pride is checkt high wordes the speaker spilt My good ô Lord thy gift thy strength my stay Giue what thou bidst and then bid what thou wilt VVorke with me what thou of me do'st request Then will I dare the most and vow the best Prone looke crost armes bent knee and contrite hart Deepe sighes thicke sobs dew'd eyes prostrate praiers Most humbly beg release of earned smart And sauing shroud in mercies sweete repaires If iustice should my wrongs with rigor wage Feares would dispaires ruth breed a hopelesse rage Lazar at pitties gate I vlcered lye Crauing the reffues crummes of childrens plate My sores I lay in view to mercies eye My rags beare witnesse of my poore estate The wormes of conscience that within me swarme Proue that my plaints are lesse then is my harme VVith mildnesse Iesu measure my offence Let true remorse thy due reuenge abate Let teares appease when trespasse doth incense Let pittie temper thy deserued hate Let grace forgiue let loue forget my fall VVith feare I craue with hope I humbly call Redeeme my lapse with raunsome of thy loue Trauerse th'inditement rigors doome suspend Let frailtie fauour sorrowes succour moue Be thou thy selfe though changling I offend Tender my sute clense this defiled denne Cancell my debts sweet Iesu say Amen The end of Saint Peters complaint MARY MAGDALENS BLVSH THE signes of shame that staine my blushing face Rise from the feeling of my rauing fits VVhose ioy annoy whose guerdon is disgrace VVhose solace flyes whose sorrow neuer flits Bad seede I sow'd worse fruite is now my gaine Soone dying mirth begat long liuing paine Now pleasure ebbes reuenge beginnes to flow One day doth wreake the wrath that many wrought Remorse doth tcach my guiltie thoughts to know How cheape I sould that Christ so deerely bought Faults long vnfelt doth conscience now bewray VVhich cares must cure and teares must wash away All ghostly dynts that grace at me did dart Like stubborne rocke I forced to recoyle To other flights an ayme I made my hart whose wounds then wel-come now haue wrought my foyle VVoe worth the bow woe worth the archers might That draue such arrowes to the marke so right To pull them out to leaue them in is death One to this world one to the world to come VVounds may I weare and draw a doubtfull breath But then my wounds will worke a dreadfull dome And for a world whose pleasures passe away I lose a world whose ioyes are past decay O sence ô soule ô had ô hoped blisse You wooe you weane you draw you driue me back Your crosse encountring like their combate is That neuer end but with some deadly wrack VVhen sence doth winne the soule doth loose the field And present haps make future hopes to yeeld O heauen lament sence robbeth thee of Saints Lament ô soules sence spoyleth you of grace Yet sence doth scarse deserue these hard complaints Loue is the thiefe sence but the entring place Yet graunt I must sence is not free from sinne For theefe he is that theefe admitteth in ¶ Marie Magdalens complaynt at Christes death SIth my life from life is parted Death come take thy portion VVho suruiues when life is murdred Liues by meere extortion All that liue and not in God Couch their life in deaths abod Seely starres must needes leaue shining VVhen the sunne is shaddowed Borrowed streames refraine their running VVhen head springs are hindered One that liues by others breath Dieth also by his death O true life since thou hast left me Mortall life is tedious Death it is to liue without thee Death of all most odious Turne againe or take me to
little sweete hath many fowres Short hap immortall harmes Her louing lookes are murdring dartes Her songs bewitching charmes Like winter rose and sommer I se Her ioyes are still vntimely Before her hope behind remorse Faire first in fine vnseemely Moodes passions fancies iealous fits Attend vpon her traine She yeeldeth rest without repose A heau'n in hellish paine Her house is slouth her doore deceite And slipperie hope her staires Vnbashfull boldnesse bids her guests And euery vice repaires Her diet is of such delight As please till they be past But then the poyson kils the hart That did entise the tast Her sleepe in sinne doth end in wrath Remorse rings her awake Death cals her vp shame driues her out Dispaires her vp-shot make Plowe not the Seas sowe not the sands Leaue off your idle paine Seeke other mistres for your minds Loues seruice is in vaine Life is but losse BY force I liue in will I wish to dye In plaint I passe the length of lingring dayes Free would my soule from mortall body flye And tread the tracke of deaths desired wayes Life is but losse where death is deemed gaine And loathed pleasures breede displeasing paine VVho would not dye to kill all murdering greeues Or who would liue in neuer dying feares VVho would not wish his treasure safe from theeues And quit his hart from pangues his eyes from teares Death parteth but two euer fighting foes VVhose ciuill strife doth worke our endlesse woes Life is a wandring course to doubtfull rest As oft a cursed ryse to damning leape As happie race to winne a heauenly crest None being sure what finall fruites to reape And who can like in such a life to dwell VVhose wayes are straite to heau'n but wyde to hell Come cruell death why lingrest thou so long VVhat doth withhold thy dint from fatall stroke Now prest I am alas thou doest me wrong To let me liue more anger to prouoke Thy right is had when thou hast stopt my breath VVhy should'st thou stay to worke my double death If Saules attempt in falling on his blade As lawfull were as ethe to put in vre If Sampsons leaue a common law were made Of Abels lot if all that would were sure Then cruell death thou should'st the tyrant play VVith none but such as wished for delay VVhere life is lou'd thou ready art to kill And to abridge with sodaine pangues their ioy VVhere life is loath'd thou wilt not worke their will But dost adiourne their death to their annoy To some thou art a fierce vnbidden guest But those that craue thy helpe thou helpest least Auant ô viper I thy spight defie There is a God that ouer-rules thy force VVho can thy weapons to his will apply And shorten or prolong our brittle course I on his mercie not thy might relye To him I liue for him I hope to dye I dye aliue O Life what lets thee from a quicke decease O death what drawes thee from a present pray My feast is done my soule would beat ease My grace is said ô death come take away I liue but such a life as euer dies I die but such a death as neuer ends My death to end my dying life denies And life my liuing death no whit amends Thus still I dye yet still I do reuiue My liuing death by dying life is fed Grace more then nature keepes my hart aliue VVhose idle hopes and vaine desires are dead Not where I breath but where I loue I liue Not where I loue but where I am I dye The life I wish must future glory giue The deathes I feele in present dangers lye What ioy to line I wage no warre yet peace I none enioy I hope I feare I fry in freezing cold I mount in mirth still prostrate in annoy I all the world embrace yet nothing hold All wealth is want where chiefest wishes faile Yea life is loath'd where loue may not preuaile For that I loue I long but that I lack That others loue I loath and that I haue All worldly fraights to me are deadly wrack Men present hap I future hopes doe craue They louing where they liue long life require To liue where best I loue death I desire Heere loue is lent for loane of filthy gaine Most friends befriend thēselues with friendships shew Heere plentie perril want doth breed disdaine Cares common are ioyes faulty short few Here honour enuide meanenes is dispis'd Sinne deemed solace vertue little pris'd Heere beauty is a baite that swallowed choakes A treasure sought still to the owners harmes A light that eyes to murdring sighs prouokes A grace that soules enchant with mortall charmes A luring ayme to Cupids fiery flights A balefull blisse that damnes where it delights O who would liue so many deaths to try VVhere will doth wish that wisedome doth reproue VVhere nature craues that grace must needs denie VVhere sence doth like that reason cannot loue VVhere best in shew in finall proofe is worst VVhere pleasures vpshot is to die accurst Lifes death loues life WHo liues in loue loues least to liue And long delayes doth rue If him he loue by whom he liues To whom all loue is due VVho for our loue did choose to liue And was content to die VVho lou'd our loue more then his life And loue with life did buy Let vs in life yea with our life Requite his liuing loue For best we liue when least we liue If loue our life remoue VVhere loue is hote life hatefull is Their grounds doe not agree Loue where it loues life where it liues Desireth most to be And sith loue is not where it liues Nor liueth where it loues Loue hateth life that holdes it backe And death it best approues For seldome is he wonne in life VVhom loue doth most desire If wonne by loue yet not inioyde Till mortall life expire Life out of earth hath not aboad In earth loue hath no place Loue setled hath her ioyes in heau'n In earth life all her grace Mourne therefore no true louers death Life onely him annoyes And when he taketh leaue of life Then loue beginnes his ioyes At home in Heauen FAire soule how long shall veyles thy graces shroud How long shall this exile with-hold thy right VVhen will thy sunne disperse this mortall cloud And giue thy glories scope to blaze their light O that a Starre more fit for Angels eyes Should pyne in earth not shyne aboue the skyes Thy ghostly beautie offred force to God It cheyn'd him in the linkes of tender loue It woon his will with man to make abode It stai'd his Sword and did his wrath remoue It made the rigor of his iustice yeeld And Crowned mercie Empresse of the feeld This lull'd our heauenly Sampson fast a sleepe And laid him in our feeble natures lap This made him vnder mortall load to creep And in our flesh his god-head to enwrap This made him soiourne with vs in exile And not disdayne our tytles in his