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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A62987 Miscellanea sacra, or, Poems on divine & moral subjects collected by N. Tate ... Tate, Nahum, 1652-1715. 1696 (1696) Wing T195; ESTC R22340 36,916 174

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frown'd upon my Birth Nor to this Hour allows one Minute's Mirth Yet still I 'm flatter'd with deceitful Air That always says to Morrow shall be fair No Morrow yet has darted one kind Ray But still proves darker than the former Day The ruffling Winds oftimes disturb the Main But soon the Billows grow compos'd again No Leaves in Winter on the Grove are seen Which yet the next Spring Cloaths with fresher Green When sudden Storms eclipse the Morning's Light Those once dispers'd the Day returns more bright My gloomy Thoughts no Interval can find The Tempest always rages in my Mind My Sighs are all the Musick I employ My Sighs are all the Musick I enjoy With these I pass the tedious Night away With these I pass the yet more tedious Day My Friends 't is true their Counsel oft address Advise me oft to make my Sorrows less I took their Council gave to Mirth the Rein Mirth only brought more sharp Returns of Pain For when my Griefs with Laughter I 'd beguile Tempestuous Sighs destroy'd the Infant Smile And when I try to Sleep my Griefs to Rest Their Crys fright from my Door the gentle Guest Ye Streams and Groves my long frequented Seats Ye Rocks Caves my Sorrows last Retreats You know how oft my Groans in vain supprest Have with recoiling Fury torn my Breast While Eccho gentle sharer of my Woe Returns a Sigh to ev'ry Sigh I throw Here Progne do's her mournful Story tell Answer'd by sadder Notes of Philomel Each in her Turn renews the doleful Strain While Halcyons from the distant Shoars complain With these the Turtle joins eternal Moan Like me she mourns and murmurs all alone Thus Fate do's cruelly my Life prolong Of all my suffrings Life the greatest Wrong Out of Hermannus Hugo I Charge you O Daughters of Jerusalem if ye find my Beloved that ye tell him I am sick of Love Cant. 5. 8. YE happy souls of Heavenly Salem's Race Whose snowy Feet the Azure Temples grace You you I charge attend my sacred Strain If ye by chance shou'd find my Love again Tell him I Languish with a Fire unknown As Iasmins saint beneath th' Assyrian Sun For ' midst the Darts he lately scatter'd round He fell himself a Shaft and I a Wound At least his own Blood ting'd the pointed Steel ' For I more His than my own Sufferings feel Ah! with what fires was then my Soul possest As if whole Aetna heav'd within my Breast If he 's inquisitive as Lovers are And should enquire of each particular Talk all the Forms of Languish and Distress Which Pain forbids the Sufferer to express He 'll ask if I am Feaverish tell him No My Spirits are too weak my Pulse too low He 'll ask if danger of my Life appears Tell what your Eyes discover not your Ears Tell him you bid me speak whilst my faint breath Imported nothing but the signs of Death Perhaps he 'll ask you how I did appear What Looks and what my other symptoms were This or like This let your Description be That he my danger with its Cause may see A pale a frightful trembling Ghost I lye Condemn'd O Fate neither to live nor dye I pant and struggle for my hovering Breath Labouring for either perfect Life or Death With heavy Eyes that sink in gloomy Shade My faint Right hand within my Bosom laid No rosy Colours no young Native heat No Pulse tho' touch'd can be perceiv'd to beat A floud of Tears wash my faint Life away And dying Sighs to him my Soul convey Whilst in these sad Complaints I still admire To feel I burn yet know not what 's the fire Unless 't is Love which doth these Passions move For every accent of my Pain is Love From hence I find from hence proceeds my flame I know not Love but yet a Lover am Love made my Plaints so loud my Sighs so deep Love taught my unexperienc'd Eyes to weep From hence th' Abruptness of my Language came That I could utter nothing but his Name This in these words Let my Beloved hear That I fond of my pain his Fetters bear Tell him I burn with such a gentle fire As Roses in the Summers heat expire Tell him that I with long Desires decay As hoary Lillies droop and fade away I charge ye tell him I am sick of Love And my last Sickness tell him it will prove ON EASTER-DAY By an unknown Hand 1. HArk Sure I hear Urania play I hear her tune the heavenly Strings Some wondrous Tidings sure she brings Oh! now methinks I hear her say The Sun of Rightcousness To day Must break must rise must come away With Healing on his Wings 2. 'T is done behold the God appear Fulfilling all that he hath said Captivity is Captive led Death of his old invenom'd Spear Behold disarm'd and conquer'd here The Grave no more the Members seat Since risen is the Head 3. In vain the silly Rabbins strove A Stratagem of Force to find The Lord Omnipotent to bind Too weak to stop Almighty Love Their Guards their Stone their Seal must prove The trembling Earth doth all remove Like Dust before the Wind. 4. Let ransom'd Men in Praises vie Let every faithful Soul rejoice And tune to Angels Notes his Voice Hail Son of David let them cry Hail Thou that Livest and didst Dye That list'st thy glorious Seat on high And Sufferings mad'st thy Choice 5. Unfold ye Everlasting Gates That Guard the great Iehovah's Towers Those Sacred My stick Leaves of yours The King of Glory for you waits Receive him O ye blissful Bow'rs Ye Thrones Dominions Sceptred Powers He comes accomplish'd are the Hours Appointed by the Fates 6. Be now thy Foes thy Footstool made Exalted high on God's Right-hand A Priest for ever mayst thou stand Thy dear Redeeming Blood to plead Th' imperfect Sacrifice to aid Which is by wretched Man convey'd And never must be scann'd A Preparation to PRAYER By the same Hand 1. LET no bold Prayer presume to rise Let no unhallowed Incense go A fruitless Progress through the Skies Whilst here thy Heart remains below Thy Heart adorn'd in all its best desires Thy Father kindly courts thy awful God requires 2. Think with what Reverence and State Thy Maker is ador'd Above What mighty Beings round him wait And pay their Worship and their Love That Cherubims are in his Sight afraid And with enfolded Wings their glorious Faces Shade 3. How must that Guardian Angel grieve That to attend thy Soul is sent Such cold Petitions to receive As his warm Zeal can ne'er present How must he grieve thy empty Forms to see In Spirit and in Truth his God must worshipt be 4. How will it swell thy final Cares How will it all thy hopes defeat To see thy Sins increas'd by Prayers Which only could their force abate How can'st thou hope t' escape those foreign Harms Who thus against thy self turn'st thy defensive Arms GOLD is try'd in the Fire
ancient well spread Oak The Grove's Defence and Glory while it stood High Hills the fairest mark for Thunder stand Great Bodies are but seldom sound Such have most room to take a Wound And the fat Deer invites the Hunter's hand What whisling Fortune does this day advance It throws down with a greater fall Estates that are but low and small Last a long quiet Age secure from Chance He 's only happy that of meaner rank Does not his humble State resent But with his Fortune still content With a safe Wind Sails by the neighb'rng bank Whose wary Boat that dares not trust her Oar To the rough usage of the Wind And the wide Ocean seldom kind Keeps still in prospect of the safer Shore RIGHT ZEAL By the same Hand SUre there 's a Zeal that 's born of heav'nly Race Whose Lineage in its Aspects you may trace The generous Fervour and admir'd Degree Of a victorious healthful Piety This quickens Souls grown stupid and imparts An active Ferment to devouter Hearts 'T is this invigorates decaying Grace And sheds fresh Beauty on it's sickly Face It works not out in Froth nor will it vent In angry Heats its inward Discontent Nor for a Triffle will to Blood contend Nor all its Warmth in Noise and Censures spend But meek and gentle as the Sacred Dove 'T will on the Soul in kindly Breathings move It smooths rough Nature sweetens eager Blood Expels the vicious part and saves the good It s heav'nly Birth and Nature it will prove By universal Charity and Love It will so widen a contracted Mind To the strait Compass of a Sect confin'd It shall embrace those of a different Name And find ev'n for their Enemies a Flame 'T will pity smaller Faults and those that stray Reduce with peaceful Methods to their way It deals not Blows and Death about on those Whose Errors some less useful Truth oppose Nor do's with Sword and Fire the Stubborn tame It uses none but its own harmless Flame In Reformations 't will some Faults endure And not encrease the Wounds it seeks to cure It stickles most on Love's and Mercy 's side And checks the Heat and outrages of Pride 'T will shed its own not others Blood to gain The Peace it seeks and mutual Love maintain This Zeal has always most Impatience shown Where our Lord's Honour 's injur'd not our own Unaskt it can forgive an Injury Still love the Author and his Rage defy Without this Zeal how meanly Grace appears See what a sick consumptive Face it wears It 's Beauty faded and its Vigour lost It seems departed Virtue 's meagre Ghost Only this Zeal its Ruins can repair And render its Complexion fresh and fair Such Courage springs from this more active Grace As can the various Shapes of Terrour face It makes us gladly take the Martyr's Crown And meet the Flames with greater of our own No Straits no Death it formidable thinks Beneath whose force a sickly Virtue sinks It gives the Soul the quickest deepest Sense Of unseen Worlds creates such diligence As cheerfully dispatches all the Tasks That Heav'n prescribes or our own safety asks This Zeal is wary not enflam'd by Pride And walks not but with Knowledge for its guide Nor will too hastily Advance but stay To take Advice and Reason in its way When it grows hot 't is always certain too And will its doubting Thoughts as calmly shew Blest heav'nly Zeal how spiritful and fair Those Souls that feel its Influence appear How much such Godlike Hero's us condemn Whom they excel as much as Angels them Let me this truly noble Zeal attain And those that seek 'em Wealth and Honour gain My Portion 's then so great not all the store Of worldly Treasures can enrich me more TEMPTATIONS By the same Hand ALas I walk not out but still I meet Paths too perplex'd for my unwary Feet At my return the calm and even Mind I carry'd forth all discompos'd I find My weak Devotions slacken'd and unbent And Passions loos'd grow loud and turbulent My ruffled Mind with Sorrow secks in vain To rank and suit its displac'd Thoughts again My careful Steps no place securely tread Thick Snares o'er all th' enchanted Ground are spread The smallest Inadvertencies expose Unguarded Virtue to our watchful Foes Satan rejoyces if his Hell has Joy That lost himself He can Mankind destroy Rav'nous as Lyons are and strong as they He does on Souls as those on Bodies prey He much to 's Skill more to fall'n Nature trusts And brings Temptations suited to our Lusts Temptations brings of Circe's Syren-Brood By feeble Resolutions not withstood Nor vanquish'd by faint Wishes to be good Here some great Man's displeasure over aws Our fears of Sin there carnal Pleasure draws In an alluring Dress it courts the Sense Whilst yielding Nature faint Resistance makes At last o'er come gives up her Innocence And in exchange Sin and Heav'ns anger takes Sometimes a deadly Persecutors hate Will damp our Zeal and Love to God abate Sometimes the envious Scorn on Virtue thrown And the disgrace of being good Alone But after the attractive baits of Sin Call up the secret Sparks of Lust within Which taking fire burst out into a Flame Which our disabled Reason cannot tame Those Purposes small Opposition make That once we thought no charms no force could shake But leave us to the power of Lustful Fires And the wild Guidance of unclean Desires But ah what After-pangs will This create When sober Thoughts the sinful Act debate What guilty Blushes wounded Conscience wears See how it starts lash'd with its secret Fears It flies from Heav'n the thoughts of God afright My troubled Soul before its chief Delight Heav'ns frown blasts all my Joys tormenting Fears The secret Stings of Conscience Sighs Tears Is all the sad Reward past Sins afford For these I'm by my self and God abhor'd When Love would rise to Heav'n with fresh Delight Conscience suggests my Guilt and stays its slight How dear a Moment's sinful Pleasures cost God's Favour more than Life I 've for it lost One Sin can all my ancient Doubts restore Makes me suspect the Conquests got before Makes me suspend the Hopes of heav'nly Bliss And Tyrants ne'er found Torment like to this It makes me question all my Deeds debate The future safety of my doubtful State It strangely can undo what 's past destroy My present and revoke my former Joy It shews old Sins to wound me with their view And the sad Penitential Scene renew What spreading Mischief is in Sin conceal'd By Man believ'd not 'till too late reveal'd Fool that I am such Torments to create And buy Repentance at so dear a rate Vpon a most Virtuous and Accomplish'd Young Gentleman Who Died of the Small-Pox By S. H. Esq 1. OF our Dead Friends ill Truths we may not tell Such spotless Honour in the Grave should dwell Yet more a breach of Charity it seems To hide their Virtues then to speak