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A06171 Prosopopeia containing the teares of the holy, blessed, and sanctified Marie, the Mother of God. Lodge, Thomas, 1558?-1625. 1596 (1596) STC 16662A; ESTC S1587 34,962 128

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barrennesse the daies of my desolation are come The blessedst amongest women is now the miserablest amongst mothers Grief hath brought mee to deaths doore my sonne but death will not let me enter oh then shewe thy deitie to helpe thy mother and let me die in this desolate flesh to liue in thy diuine bodie the ioy in possessing the one shall temper the losse of the other and dying in my selfe to giue thee life I shall liue in death by reason of thy lyfe O Lorde Lord of my life how hath zeal made mee presume no soule meriteth to dwel in this body but thine own thus impatience in loue makes mee too much presume for loue Fruites long time shut in their buds by rain deawe and sunne are made to blossome riuers closde in then bounds by huge windes are forced to ouerlope the bankes The Ostridge by helpe of the Sun and sand breaketh the shell ripen then thou roote of mine for the raine of remorse hath watered thee the deaw of compassion hath wet thee the sunne of my zeale and charitie hath looked on thee and inflamed thee rise rouse thy selfe thou riuer of God for the windes of my sighs haue summoned thee ouerbeare death holye spring of happines and let the waters of life issue from thee Breake the shell of death thou that fastedst in the desart and let the sunne of my desire quicken the sun of vnderstanding be not to long in conquering death least I loose life in wailing thy death How long ô Lorde howe long wilt thou delay Shall death neuer haue end because my life may be deuoured in death Wilt thou not awake like a strong warriour to conquere these passions with combat with thy mothers heart Set thine axe to the tree of my sorrowe let mine eyes which bewaile thee dead beholde thee liuing let mine eares which are scard with mine owne clamors bee consolated by thy counsels let mee smell thee the rose and see thee the lilly richly clothed let me tast howe sweet the Lord is let me touch him whose absence toucheth mee at the hart let my imagination be the vsher to present thee my memorie the painter to describe thee my consideration the fire to kindle loue Let hell hunger thirst weepe and waile come thou and ioy with Israel thou hast not to doo with Aegypt Come thou corner stone and let me builde on thee wed me to death so thou returne to life I cannot want thee I will not misse thee my loue is so feruent as it neither measures iudgement or regardeth counsel or is brideled by shame or subiect to reason come yeeld me peace with a kisse of thy mouth and let my importunacy work more with thee than all expectation can require Lēd me the cloak of thy presence to diuide the waters of my woes let thy mother bee as strong as thy prophet that by praying to our Lorde with teares by putting my mouth on thy mouth by fastning mine eies to thine eies by closing my handes in thy handes I may make the flesh of my sonne wax warme as he warmed the flesh of the Sunamites child then gasping seuen times I wold kisse thee seuētie times seuen seeme more thy louer than thy mother I wold expostulate with thee of thine absence and if thy wounds fell new a bleeding I would wash them with my teares my hairs should dry them my lips should suck them thou shouldest make me more than a mother in recouering mee an absent sonne Well Lorde if thou denyest that I want I will reioyce in that I haue I wil symbolise thy body with mine and quicken thy passion by my sufferance There shal no sorrow be hid from mine eies till I see thy eyes open and till the eies of our Lord quicken mee the eie of poore Marie shall see no comfort mine eie shal onely see by supposing thine eie seeth all pleasures shal be smoake to mine eies till thy eies doo beholde them till thy eies bee waking mine eies shall be weeping and vnles they grow open I will shut mine eies with sorrow I will set a sure seale vppon my lips till thy lips salute me my lips shall become white as the lilly til thy lips grow crimson like a rose coloured riband My vnsained lips shal bee tired with praier till such time I may inioy thy desired presence my handes shall neuer vnfolde till the hands of my Lord be extended I wil neuer deliuer thy bodie out of my hands till thou deliuer my soule out of her sorrow I will lay my hand vppon my mouth till thou speakest neuer wil I cease to lift vp my hands to heauen till thy hands haue imbraced me on earth till thou put foorth thy hand I will leane my head vpon my hande and till thy fingers touch me my heart shall bee touched with sorrow the wings of the cherubines touched one another ô let the wings of my charity touch the wings of my life both are allied both loue They that touched the hem of thy vesture recouered from their sicknesse shall not I touch thy bodie to recouer me of my sorrow The bodie which liueles touched the bones of Elisa were restored to life and shall my hands touch thee my lippes kisse thee my loue importune thee and thou not liue All heauie thinges by nature search the center I am in the abundance of my heauinesse and cannot descend into the graue I will glorie in tribulation so thou grace me in thy life My soule is in bitternesse and heauie captiuitie oh make my burden light by once looking on mee The Iewes by smiting haue wounded thee thou by absence hast wounded mee sorrow and wounds are euer in my sight touch I thy browe thornes haue wounded it kisse I thy cheekes crimson hath forsaken them thy sides are wounded thy hands are wounded thy feet are wounded my wounds cannot bee hid till thy wounds be healed and til thou liue to recure mee I shall die thorough wanting thee Thou hast promised that whatsoeuer wee shall faithfully aske in thy name thou wilt grant it vs. Then ô Iesu my sonne my cōforter I coniure thee by thine owne name Iesus to blunt and abate the sting of death to breake vp and dispearse the cloudes of darknes and appearing like a fair morning starre quicken the dead comfort of thy mother and giue a light to this desolate and dismaide worlde Shew the light of thy countenance and I shall be whole O Lord my redeemer tarrie not my soule thirsteth after thee my sonne as the hart desireth the hart desireth the water brookes euen so my soule longeth after thee my God Appeare then thou chief shepheard thy flocks saint without thee Apparell thy selfe with life to apparell our hearts with ioy my eies long fore for thy sight oh when wilt thou comfort me O who will giue my head water inough and a spring of teares for mine eies that I
houle and lament a Sauior is departed from you a iust king hath suffered Let your faces bee swolne with weeping for I wil water my couch with teares Let the voice of my mourning bee heard in your streetes for the noise of tribulation is harbored in my heart Weepe discomfortable teares and I wil mingle my drinke with weeping with weeping conduct that Lord to the graue who weepingly bewailed and be wailingly wept ouer your Citie Inforce your selues to weepe whilest my eyes faile me thorough weeping powre your teares on his heart whilest I feede on teares daie and night I will powr all my teares into his wounds he will put all your teares into his bottell Let your teares run like a riuer let my teares be seas to suck them vp only assist me in my strong weeping and teares and he will wipe awaie all your teares Why claime I partners in my griefe who haue no partners in my loue No creatute loued thee deerer in thy life shal I seeke associats in bewailing thee Ah my son could ought but death depart thee and mee Nay coulde there be one step betwixt mee and death who onelye in death maye now seeke thee O Iesu my Father my Sonne see heere an indissoluble Enigma I a Virgine had thee a Sonne thou a son hadst mee a spouse my sonne is my father and I am the daughter of my sonne I will then weepe for thee as my father sigh for thee as thy daghter die for thee as thy spouse and grieue for thee as thy mother as thou art wonderfully mine so will I weepe such a labyrinth of teares as no mortall mourner shalbe able to tract them I will dissolue my relenting yelding passions with all their fruites to lament thee as a sonne I will put on the roabes of dissolution to mourne for thee as my spouse I wil gather ingrosse al griefe to weep for thee as my father beginning where I end and ending where I began I will make my tears famous in their continuance and my loue more inflamed by thinking on thee I coniure you ye daughters of Ierusalem to looke on me but weepe no more with me I lament a sonne lost to teach you to weepe for the sorowes of your children to come but if the entrailes of your pittie springs of compassion must needes breake out weepe you onely his harmes in life let me bewaile the losse of him by death my confident minde and firme constancie when the world was disturbed at his passion made me peremptorie when the earth trembled I was not troubled whē the pilets of heauen were shaken I sounded not they sell I stood now am I drowned in the sea of bitternes his eie of compassion the pilot in those seas hath lefte mee the helme of my hope is broken the sunne of my comfort is eclipsed hee hath past the brierie thornie paths the scourges hath registred his patience on his backe the nailes haue tied his triumphs our sinnes his bodie to the crosse I niurie hath spit her venom Infamie hath doone his worst Iustice hath ransackt his right wayle this yee daughters of Ierusalem for your children shall wring for it I onely exclaim on death death hath triumphed ouer life til glory ouercome death the holie one hath perished fished seeth no corruption one daies one houres one minutes want of that I loue maks euery day an age euerie houre a million of ages euerie minute an eternitie of sorrow for that I want O you that passe this waie beholde this bodie you that looke on these wounds see these lims tell me Is not beautie oppressed Maiestie imbased Innocencie martired Come neere and iudge if anie griefe may bee compared with mine The fairer children we haue the dearer we loue them and shuld I who bare the mirrour of all beautie in my wombe cease to weep for him You men of Israel that beholde this bee not amazed at my griefe my loue was extreame my griefe must not be extenuate the grace was great to beare Christ the courage is as great to bewaile him his beautie was infinite and shall my moanes bee definite These thornes which martyrize his beautious browes this bloud which bedeweth his bloudlesse face these woundes that disgrace his blessed bodie this humilitie in so great mighty a monarch ' are prickes and spurs to egge you vnto repentance springes to washe you from your wickednesse gates to bring you to glory all these are but stinges to stir you to loue God mirrors in which you see his beautie books in which you reade his wisedome and preachers which teach you the waie to heauen Oh thou paschall lambe whose bloud hath bin sprinkled on the timber of the cross Oh thou by whō men are deliuered frō y e thraldom of Egipt the captiuity of the prince of this world whose death killed their death whose sacrifice satisfied for their sinnes Whose bloud deliuereth them from the chastising Angell whose meeknes pacifieth the ire of the father and whose innocencie deserueth for them true securitie and iustice Thou booke which the Prophet sawe written both within and with out why striue not men by theyr sighs to breath life into thee And why should not my cries of compassion recall thy spirit Ahlas my God sinne hath gotten the vpper hand these Iewes are amazed thy mother vnable their zeale cold my power small the vnbeleeuing are many and penitents haue too fewe teares to bewaile thee yet while teares yeeld me anie tribute sighes vouch safe me anie succour tongue affoord me anie words I will weep for thee sigh for thee and talke of thee desiring rather to surfet in wordes than to shroude my zeale and rather die in bewailing thee to much than liue to lament thee too little O thou glasse of grace who hath bespotted thee who hath brought thee into the shadow of death Ah deare soule what northwind of sin hath blowen hether al this tempest meeknesse could not offend patience did not insult innocencie was faultlesse the vvolfe shoulde haue suffered not the lambe the guiltie not the guiltlesse Oh the immeasurable reach of thy mercie I haue spied the insearchable bent of the same thou hast lefte life to reuiue them that loath thee suffred death for such as detracted from thee borne mans infirmities and satisfied his sinnes O grace beyond all conceit O marucilous mysterie Thou diedst for man man declineth from thee thou sufferedst for his sinnes he sigheth not for thy death O men swift footed to run to wickednes haue you no affects to bewaile him who suffered for your defects Wil you not weep for the prophet that died for your profit Haue you no teares to spend for him whose life is spent for you O ingratefull O iniurious drawe neere and behold a mother bewailing your ingratitude a son dead for your redemption and though you lament him not for the plentious consolations
may weepe daie night for the absence of my son Ahlas ahlas sorow increaseth in me and heauinesse swalloweth vp my soule my teares are like seede in a barren ground the garden of my delight is become a desart of sorrow I am like a mother bemourning her child because he is not Oh thou angell of peace come and succour me Ah my sonne the happinesse in bearing thee is buried through the heauinesse in missing thee and the hope I conceiued of thy life is preuented by thy lamentable death Wo is me I am sicke to the death to see thee dead I am sicke for loue and desire to hasten thy life Wilt thou lifte the poore out of the dust and leaue thy mother in desolation Oh lifte vp thine eies and see howe the mother lifteth vp her voice and weepeth Oh loue if thou art mightier than death now shew thy power lighten the lampe of his life at the candle of my charitie Poure the oyle of thy compassion into these wounds and heale them breath the breath of life into him by imbraces and kissing as I claspe mine armes let him gaspe breath as I weep on his face let him sucke vp my teares O death if thou be more pittifull than loue imprison thy dart in my heart ransome my sonne Ahlas the fairest among men loue will not lend him me death wil not grant him me his mother must be onely kinde and her best tributes are but teares prayers kisses and wishes Ah Bethelem mourn with me and you inhabitants of Iuda put on sackcloth for sorrow is come vppon you and the voice of the mourner must ring in your streetes houle and lament Ierusalem weepe the teares of contrition sigh sob complaine you he that loued you lost his lyfe he that wept for you is dead for you hee that praied for you is plagued for you Ah crosse that hast made my sonne a martyr and mee a mourner Ah crosse that art the meane of my griefe Ah crosse the cause of crosse I must kisse thee accuse thee See see thou art honoured by my Iesus name his purple drops of blud dwel in thee thou diddest kisse his bodie his warme bodie and for these causes I kisse thee But cruel crosse since all thy trophies are cause of my trouble thy titles the occasions of my teares let me accuse thee which hast honored thy selfe and left me comfortlesse yet art thou kinde to me in listning my complaintes and but in bearing the name of Iesus in thy front thou hast alreadie recouered my fauour O crosse the image of mortification the tree of redemption the bond of peace the seal of the couenant I will crosse mine armes to imbrace thee Crosse all my ioyes to containe thee I will be a crosse to mine owne soule if it seeke thee not and count euerie comfort a crosse that is not crost by thee I will crosse the seas of tribulation to incounter thee whilst I hold thee holy crosse I will count no crosse too cruell I that bare my sonne will holde it for no base benefit to beare his crosse the onely glorying in the crosse of Christ crucified shal be my best blessing my loue shall fasten mee to my sonnes crosse and in that he vouchsafed a crosse I will esteeme no glorie but in his crosse O sonne the words of thy wisedome were pricks and nailes to my meditation these fastned thee vnto me in all assaultes of sorrowe and those nailes which nailed thy handes and feete to the crosse shall nail my soul thoughts to thy crosse with my nailes I will dig my owne graue before I forsake those nails which forced thy hands Like as a nail in the wall sticketh fast so fastly shall the nailes of thy martirdome sticke in my heart I will naile vp my soule from all ioy because the naile that issued from Iuda is broken my flesh is torne with thornes because thy forehead is rent wyth thornes the thornes of tribulation persecute me because the thornes of martirdome pearceth I will hedge in my heart with thornes because they haue hemd in thy braines with thornes Whether vnto extendeth my sorrowe If it was thy loue that madest thee suffer it becommeth my loue to suffer with thee and since thou giuest mee an example of patience why should I not preserue the same Though the shadow of death ouerspred thine eies hope saith they shall be lightned though thy life be nowe like the darke night it shortly shall be as cleere as the noone daie yea thou shalt shine forth and bee as the morning The shepheards after great storms wait for faire weather the souldiers after dreadfull warre expect happie peace the sentinell after his colde watch attendeth and intendeth his desired and wished sleepe pleasures are the heires of displeasures comfort treadeth on the heele of care Why expostulate I then with death who hauing a time to tyrannize shal at last be lead in triumph the storms of afflictions shall bee calmed the warres of rufull wailing shall haue a peacefull delight these watchfull complaints and attendings to see my loue shal at last be quieted and I shal laie me downe and take my rest for my Lord shall come and cause mee to dwell in safetie Brieftie all teares shal be wiped from mine eies deaths sting shall bee dulled lifes triumph shall bee established sorrowe shall be disinherited and maiestie reuiued Oh my charitie how much doest thou helpe mee in this my faith onely presenteth mee wyth all these hopes as it were vnder a vaile my hope beholdeth my sonne these future prophesies of him as the chiefest good which as yet vnpossessed she hopeth to inioy but thou my charitie makest all these ioyes present so that I behold effectuallye thinges before thy bee and craue no interest in beleefe whereas my loue assures mee all is present Ah that the aduersitie of an houre shoulde make mee thus forget the pleasures I had in lyfe when I lulled thee in my lap my son fostered thee at these teates followed thee in trauels fedde with thee in Aegypt Then ô then what sweetnes inioyed I in thy presence what comfort in thy counsels what courage in extreams Ah but if it be true that thinges the dearer they are loued breed the more hart griefe by their losse howe can I choose but waile that hauing had pleasure to wrappe thee in thy swathing bands must nowe to my discomfort close thee in thy winding sheete Can the want of thy companie the lacke of thy counsells the muficke of thy preachings the miracles in thy lyfe the charitie in thy death be expiated but with another death or answered with a few sighs Ah this aduersitie of an hour in other mens thoughts is an age in mine Compare the age of thy pleasure to one minute of the griefe and it exceedeth it The earth for a little trauell rewardeth the husbandman with a huge crop and