parents Death with open mouth to gape That their estates may come to his possession He gapes that his friends may sleep Parentalia are rites Verie welcome he delights At a fathers grave to weep Poore hare-brain'd fool Perhaps thou may'st go first This night thy younger soul may be requir'd Thy Death may frustrate that ungodly thirst Whose then is that estate thou hast desir'd If these gallants were not blind Sure they could not choose but see That a thousand children be Dead their parents left behind Of any kind of sinne to speak the truth That Satan can beget upon the soul Most commonly man 's guilti'st in his youth Our youthfull nature is beyond controll Some examples are afforded In whose historie appears Loosenesse in our yonger years These the Scriptures have recorded The verie first that e'r suck'd mothers teat Because his works were naught his brothers good Did boil his choler to so strong a heat That he must slake it in his brothers bloud How much rancour did he show So much harmlesse bloud to spill And a quarter-part to kill Of all mankind at a blow Unnaturall accursed gracelesse Cham Never did grieve nor sigh nor blush but he Laugh'd at and mock'd his drunken fathers shame A sober fathers curse his portion be Prophane Esau did make sale Of 's birthright for 's bellie-full As mongst us there 's many a gull That sells heaven for pots of ale And Absalom was most deform'd within His head-piece had more hair then wit by ods His beautie went no deeper then his skinne He fear'd not mans law nor regarded Gods In him David had a sonne Beastly and ambitious too He did wrong his bed and do What he could to steal his throne Incestuous Amnon dotes upon his sister And in his own bloud cools his lawlesse fires That brother should have sinn'd that had but kiss'd her If mov'd unto it by unchast desires But he makes a rape upon her And so furious is his lust That it cannot hold but must Rob a virgin of her honour And I could tell you of a number more Most sinfull vitious vile exorbitant Whose courses are upon the Scriptures score As if their youth had sealed them a grant To be neither wise nor holy But to runne into excesse Of all kind of wickednesse And do homage unto follie The sage Gymnosophists who first did give The wilder Indians good and wholesome laws The Magi by whom Persia learn'd to live In order the Chaldei whose wise laws The Assyrians justly rul'd And did guide in everie thing Numa Romes devoutest King Who the elder Romanes school'd That famous Solon whom th' Athenians ow For all their statutes and Lycurgus he Whose wisdome taught the Spartanes how to know What to omit and do and more there be That have publish'd wholesome laws To curb all indeed but yet Chiefly 't was to put a bit In mens wild and youthfull jaws It is a signe that colt is wild that needs So strong a bridle Ground that doth require So much manuring sure is full of weeds It is because she wallows in the mire That we need to wash a sow Men in youth must needs be bad To curb whom those laws were made Which we told you of but now 'T was a commanded custome that the Jews Should once in ev'rie two and fiftie weeks Visit their temple no man might refuse To worship there Each fourth year the Greeks Their Olympian sacrifice Orderly performed and Th' Egyptians us'd to stand Lifting up devoutest eyes Unto their Idole ev'ry seventh yeare Within th' appointed temple And 't is said Once in ten years the Romanes did appear To sacrifice then was Apollo paid His great Hecatomb and then Unto Delphos many went With their gifts for thither sent Presents ev'rie sort of men And of the Samnites authours do relate That th' ancient'st of them did most solemnly Once in five years their Lustra celebrate But 't is delivered by Antiquitie That the youth of all these nations Strictly all commanded were To these places to repair Oftner to make their oblations What doth this intimate but that the crimes Of youth are great and frequent and their vices Exorbitant that they so many times Have need to purge them by such sacrifices By experience we do find What bad courses men do follow In their youth and how they wallow In base lusts of ev'rie kind And if you ask these brainlesse hot-spurres why They dedicate themselves to such lewd courses They yet are young these gallants still replie And youth must have its swing but no remorse is Wrought at all in any heart For this lewdnesse there remains Not a thought within their brains That the youngest may depart Lord take possession of my heart betimes My youth is fittest for thy service take it Unto thy self make white those crimson crimes That fain would soil it let me never make it A pretense as many do To be lewd but think that I In the height of youth may die May die and be damned too Meditation 3. PArents methinks betime should strive to make Their children good that heaven may receive them If God should send an early Death to take Them from the earth it cannot choose but grieve them And fill full with bitter woe Any parents heart to see That their children wicked be And Death come and find them so Those fruitfull couples whom the Lord hath blest With children should take greatest care to breed them Religiously In this more love 's express'd Then in their care to cloth them or to feed them Or what else they can bestow For their life or livelyhood And to do their children good In the things that are below You must instruct your children in their way That 's double Civil and Religious too They must be taught Gods precepts to obey And to their neighbours give what is their due If you do not strive to set them By that rule which God hath given In the way that leads to heaven You did wrong them to beget them There 's such a powre and force in education That justly we may call 't a second nature Nature finds matter nurture gives the fashion And turns a man into another creature If a youth in 's manners halt On his parents we do lay All the blame and use to say That his breeding is in fault The heathen who did see but by that light Which purblind nature lent them ever caught At all occasions they conceived might Be helps to have their youth in goodnesse taught In their bodies would they find For no where but in the book Of the creatures did they look Lessons to instruct the mind It is observ'd that Socrates let passe No wayes nor means at all that might conduce To their amendment often to a glasse He brought them and that shadow had its use By his means their faces bred them For however their complexion Did appear by that reflexion From 't a lecture would he reade them That fair ones
work of Gods To make them better then at first they were Glorious immortall sound Nimble beautifull and so Splendid that from top to toe Not a blemish may be found What begger weeps when 's rags are thrown away To put on better clothes Who is 't will grieve To pull a rotten house down that it may Be fairer built Why should we not receive Death with both hands when he comes To pull off those rags that hide us To unhouse us and provide us Richer clothes and better homes The griping pangs of Death do not affright My heart at all I have deserved mo And if upon no other terms I might Enjoy my God I to my God would go Through hells self although a throng Of an hundred thousand juries Of the black'st infernall Furies Claw'd me as I went along Nor can those inward terrours make me quake Which Death-beds often on the soul do bring I have no Death-bed-reck'nings for to make 'T was made while I was well and every thing Was dispatch'd before that I Nothing in the world now save Home-desiring longings have Then to do but just to die Nor doth it trouble me that Death will take me From those delights that are enjoy'd below Alas I know that none of them can make me One jote the happier man nor can bestow Any comfort Carnall gladnesse Mirth delight and jollity This worlds best felicitie All is vanity and madnesse Mere empty husks Had I as many treasures In my possession as the muddiest wretch Did ever covet and as many pleasures As from the creature fleshly men can fetch Had I this or if I were Supreme Monarch onely Lord Of what earth and sea afford Yet I would not settle here To be dissolv'd is better Death doth bring A fairer fortune then it takes away It sets us in a world where every thing Is a happinesse a full and solid joy Not to be conceiv'd before We come thither but the blisse Which exceedeth all is this That there we shall sinne no more Lord grant a copious portion of thy Spirit The more I have of that the lesse I fear What Death can do for sure I shall inherit All joy in heaven if I am holy here Nought suits with heaven but sanctitie Let my God thy Spirit and grace Fit me for that holy place And that holy companie Meditation 5. IF Death will come what do men mean to sinne With so much greedinesse me thinks I see What a sad case the godlesse world is in How fast asleep in her securitie Fearlessely in sinne men live As if Death would never come Or there were no day of doom When they must a reck'ning give Observe a little yonder black-mouth'd swearer How 's tongue with oathes and curses pelts the skies 'T would grieve the heart of any pious hearer But to bear witnesse of his blasphemies He darts wounds at God on high Puts on cursing as his clothes And doth wrap his tongue in oathes To abuse Eternity In lawlesse lust the fornicatour fries And longs to slake it 'twixt forbidden sheets Ne'r sets the sunne but his adulterous eyes Observes the twilight and his harlot meets That which follows when the night Draws its curtain o'r the air To conceal this goatish pair Modesty forbids to write And I could shew you were it worth the viewing In that room three or foure drunkards reeling In this as many more that sweat with spewing Some that have drunk away their sense and feeling Men of all sorts in their wine And their ale sit domineering Cursing railing roring swearing Under every baser signe 'T is said so vile is this big-belly'd sinne That in a day and lesse some foure or five Of lustie drunken throats will swallow in More then hath kept two families alive A whole forthnight yet made they Merrie with 't Had I my wishes Such gulls should not drink like fishes But their throats should chāge their trade The covetous man with his usurious clutches Doth catch and hold fast all the wealth he may He leans on 't as a creeple on his crutches The miser studies nothing night and day But his gain he 's like a swine Looking downward like a mole Blind and of an earthen soul Minding nothing that 's divine These and beside these other sorts of sinners In every parish you may dayly see As greedy at their sinnes as at their dinners And wallowing in all impiety Sure these miscreants do never Entertein a thought of dying Nor yet are afraid of frying In hell flames for altogether Thou God of spirits be pleas'd to aw my heart With death and judgement that when I would sinne I may remember that I must depart And whatsoe're condition I am in When I sink under Deaths hand There 's no penance in the grave Nor then can I mercy have So must I in judgement stand Meditation 6. Lord what a thief is Death it tobs us quite Of all the world great men of all their honours Luxurious men of all their fond delight Rich men of all their money farms and mannours Naked did the world find us And the world will leave us so We shall carrie when we go Nothing but leave all behind us Let Death do 's worst ambitious men do climb By any sinne though it be ne're so foul Gold-thirsty misers swallow any crime That brings gain with it though it kill the soul Here for gain is over-reaching Cosening cheating lying stealing Knavish and sinister dealing All arts of the devils teaching Whilst I am well advis'd I 'll never strive T' increase my wealth if 't will increase my sinne I will be rather poore then seek to thrive By means unlawfull all 's not worth a pinne When mine eye-lids Death doth close What I sinned for must be Shak'd hands with eternally But the sinne that with me goes I 'll not wast love upon these lower things Nor on the choicest of them doting sit For when sad Death a habeas corpus brings To take the world from me and me from it 'gainst which I have no protection To spend love in what I may No where but on earth enjoy Were to loose all my affection The longest lease of temporalls God doth make Is but for life I 'll patiently behave My self though from me God be pleas'd to take In middle age that which his bounty gave Neither discontent nor passion Shall make me repine or grumble 'T is a way to make me humble And takes from me a temptation Thou mad'st my heart Lord keep it for thy self Lest love of dust eternally undo me Vouchsafe that this vain worthlesse empty pelf May never win me though it daily woo me If 't were lovely yet 't is gone When I dy Lord make me see That there is enough in thee To place all my love upon Meditation 7. I Am a stranger and a pilgrime here The world 's mine inne 't is not my dwelling-place In this condition all my fathers were The life I live below is but a race
a little while And he that had it last is now remov'd A story lower down into the dust Those swelling titles which were so belov'd That great estate in which the man did trust Troups of gallants that did give Their attendance all that treasure Waiting on his Lordships pleasure Could not keep the man alive Mark yonder marble-tomb beneath it hath This man a lodging All those lines you see On this side are a praising Epitaph And on the other side his titles be Of this fabrick if we might One piece from another sunder And behold what lyeth under 'T would be scarce so fair a sight Great ones remember that there is a place Which poore men call a death-bed and a time Of parting hence you walk a nimble pace To earth-ward every houre Here though you climb Up to Honour's highest round Drink a cup full to the brim Of the world in pleasures swim Death will lay you under ground Meditation 2. VVHose heart so adamantine but would weep Sad crimson drops to think upon some risers Lord what a wicked shuffling they do keep To lift themselves Some have been sacrificers Of their fathers brothers friends Kinsfolk children and have stood Wetshod every step in bloud To attein their lofty ends Of martyrs what a lamentable heap Did Herod make for fear to loose his crown A mother would have sold a cradle cheap To buy a coffin or a mourning gown This fell Tyrants rage appears Running down each Parents face His wrath left in every place Childlesse mothers drown'd in tears And Absolom that miracle of beauty So eagerly did long to be a King That he could soon unlearn his filiall duty And by a strange rebellion fain would bring The thrice-venerable head Of his aged father down To the grave without a crown And he triumph in his stead Abimelech so strong was his ambition A bloudie bargain made with certain men Of Belial and to hinder competition Did sacrifice at once threescore and ten Of his brothers on a stone With so foul and deep a guilt So much harmlesse bloud is spilt That himself may reigne alone Of that inhumane hell bred tragedie By Athaliah on the royall seed The motive was desire of majestie And that her own arms might the better speed Our third Richard goes for one Of those butchers who think good To cement their crowns with bloud And by murders reach a throne The great Turks absolute prerogative Which in securitie his crown mainteins Is not to suffer one of them to live That hath a drop of royall bloud in 's veins When he 's crown'd there 's nothing lacking That may to the safetie tend Of this Monarch but to send The ghosts of his kinsmen packing If I at leisure were to write a storie Of such black deeds as these at large I could Tell you of numbers who to purchase glorie Honours and high rooms in the world have sold And this policie they call A good conscience dearer farre Then a thousand kingdomes are And to boot their God and all And yet when all is done there dwells a God above A God that 's greater then the greatest are Who can and will send Death for to remove The greatest hence and bring them to the barre Where must stand both small and great To have sentence e'r they go Of eternall blisse or wo At Gods dreadfull judgement-seat When you are seated highest let your carriage Be full of pietie you do an act Worthy your greatnesse if you make a marriage 'Twixt it and goodnesse if you do contract Honours unto holynesse Ever give the Lord his due Honour who hath honoured you Then will Death affright the lesse Affright the lesse 't will not affright at all The errand 's welcome when a charge is giv'n To that grim pursuivant that he must call Your honours hence unto a court in heav'n To be great is not the thing That can dying-comforts yield Goodnesse onely is the field Whence all soul-refreshings spring Meditation 3. JF ever it should please God and the King Which I do not desire to give me honours Yet never should my best preferments bring Vices to boot they should not change my manners Many a man hath been good Unpreferr'd and not a slave To his lusts yet honours have Put him in another mood Of Saul we heare no evil whilst he stood Endow'd with nothing but a private fortune And afterward we heare as little good Of Saul a King His honours did importune His bad nature to produce Such fruits as were too unfit For a King and to commit Sinnes that were beyond excuse As long as man is limited within The bounds of humble base and mean estate He seems to make some conscience of a sinne And one that would be good at any rate But no wickednesse he spares When by chance the man is mounted And mongst great ones is accounted Then the man himself declares Then his depraved nature with loose rains Runnes uncontrolledly into the mire Of all impietie no sinne remains Unacted by him doth he but desire To be wicked vain or idle Any lust to satisfie That lust he will gratifie His affections wear no bridle I 'll never be deboist although my seat Of glory in the world be ne'r so high I will not therefore sinne because I 'm great For if I greater were yet I must die And must at Gods bench appear Where my sentence shall be given To receive a hell or heaven As my doings have been here Sect. 3. Pleasures cannot protect us from the stroke of Death Under the sunne there was not any joy Which Solomon that wise and famous King Had not a tast of whatsoever may Gladnesse content delight and solace bring That he from the creature gathers Not one pleasure doth he keep His heart from yet he 's asleep In the dust among his fathers His senses had those objects which delight Content and please and ravish most his touch His tast his hearing smelling and his sight His mind and humour too all had as much Of delicious satisfaction As from all beneath the skie Ever could be fetched by Any possible extraction Three hundred concubines he had to please His touch by turns each of them was his guest At night Seven hundred wives beside all these The worst of them a Princesse at the least Such a female armie meets To make his delight run o'r Sure they are enough to store Twice five hundred pair of sheets To please his tast this great Kings daily chear Exceeded for varietie and plentie He had his Roe-buck and his Fallow-deer His fatted fowl and everie other daintie He had palate-pleasing wine Gormandizers whose best wishes Terminate in toothsome dishes No where else would sup or dine And everie day both men and women-singers Imprisoned his eare with charming voices The Viol touch'd with artificiall fingers An Organs breathing most melodious noises Sackbut Psalterie Recorder The shrill Cornet and the sharp Trumpet Dulcimer and Harp These all sounded in
And if they die my grief shall be the lesse A childs death 's a precious savour In thy nostrils that was here Taught to live Lord in thy fear For he dieth in thy favour Meditation 4. IF youth it self may drop into the grave When children die methinks they should bequeath Surviving parents comforts Sure they have No cause were not affection strong to grieve Overmuch as many do For Death is impartiall By his stroke all ages fall Both the old'st and youngest too Think duly on 't Why should your eyes runne o'r For what you have no way to remedie If you should heav'n eternally implore It would not send them back But you 'll replie 'Cause there 's no way to be found That may help us to recover Them again our eyes runne over And our tears do so abound Nor ever will your highest floud of sorrow Transport them back into the world again Your selves may follow them before to morrow Those deep-fetch'd sighs are smok'd out all in vain So are all those drops you mourn Shed in vain hap'ly you may Soon go after them but they Are too happie to return Is it your love that doth produce such grones How easily alas is love mistaken Methinks you cannot love and grieve at once To love were to rejoyce that they have shaken Hands with miserie to dwell In a world of blisse above Grief at this is farre from love It seems not to wish them well Or is 't because that they are dead you weep I do not think that when they were begotten You dream'd them death-free or had hopes to keep Them here for ever that they would be rotten In their graves you could not choose But consider for a span To be quickly ended can Never go for any news Nor with good reason can you lay the blame On Death at all but on your selves that did Beget them mortall for the very same Matter wherewith they were begot and fed Fits them for an alteration By the hand of Death If you Grudge that Death hath ta'n his due You may blame their generation Or do you grieve because they di'd so soon If wayes be foul and journeys perillous Who taketh up his lodging e'r 't be noon Is best at ease 'T is like God loveth those Whom he takes betime away Sad experience lets us know That the happi'st here below Have a miserable stay Or is your onely child deceas'd that passion Doth domineer so here I could allow Methinks your tears a free immoderation But that on better ground then Jephtha's vow I remember what was done By that parent who is penn'd Down for great Jehovah's friend In case of his onely sonne Ev'n when 't was dead a miracle did fill His Sarahs womb but it was fill'd but once Isaac was all Yet Abraham must kill This all himself God did it for the nonce That he might his graces prove Yet the man made no denyall But did by so strange a triall Manifest his faith and love This case must needs strike nearer to the heart Then yours yet he doth presently submit Love I confesse is very loth to part With what it loves but grace doth put a bit Into natures mouth that she May not grumble nor repine At what 's a decree Divine But subscribe it chearfully Just like the Autumn-sap of fruitfull trees So love descends and it is ardent when Dispersed but by infinite degrees More ardent when it is contracted men That have but an onely sonne If Death take him hence their losse Is a great one but this crosse Must be born Thy will be done Is what your selves do pray for every day And when this will of God 's declared you Greatly offend if you do murmure May Not God and Sinne and Nature claim their due Very ill you do behave you If you give not heav'n leave Thankfully for to bereave You again of what it gave you Lord if thou please to stock my table round About with children yet I will be glad Nor shall my sorrow overmuch abound Though I do see them in their grave-clothes clad For the sooner are they blest And within the shortest space Whom thou help'st to winne a race They the sooner are at rest Meditation 5. VVE do not die by chance nor yet by fortune But how and when the Lord will have us die He numbers all our dayes we cannot shorten Nor lengthen them a minute Destiny Neither spinnes nor cuts the thread God a certain period sets No man shorter falls or gets Further then the bounds decreed If God vouchsafe to number out the hairs That do adorn and cloth our sinfull heads Who doubteth that his providence forbears To count our dayes If not a sparrow treads On the earth 's face thus or thus But his providence awaketh For to note it sure he taketh Greater care by farre of us If any godlesse wits so curious be To talk of Hezekiah's fifteen years His sentence God did change not his decree The answer is yet Esay 's tongue appears To speak not a jote the lesse Truth 't was with a supposition God doth threaten with condition Either tacit or expresse When Pestilence that lothsome dreadfull hag Bepatch'd with botches wanders up and down And into ev'ry houshold drops the plague Scarce any Turk in an infected town But will wife and friend afford Daily visits and imbraces They flie no contagious places Nor fear either bed or bord Their reason is Gods providence doth write Their fortunes on their foreheads neither can Their day of life be longer nor their night Of Death come sooner then God wills it Man Must yield 's ghost when God will haveit For health and life if God will Save it 't is not plague can kill If not 't is not they can save it Such block-heads have not brains enough to think That as the time so God withall decrees The means of life as physick meat and drink Clothes recreations and what else he sees Needfull They themselves destroy And are to their safety strangers That runne into mortall dangers And not shun them when they may Howe'r imploy'd Lord grant I may have leisure Religiously to meditate that thou My dayes dost number and my life dost measure And make me think Lord that this very now That this twinkling of an eye Is the period thou hast set Lord grant I may ne'r forget That this moment I may die PART III. Of Deaths suddennesse THough sometimes Death doth stay till it be late At night untill our most decrepit years And when he comes doth like a King in state Send harbingers before yet Death appears Sometimes unlook'd for early in the morning And takes us up before he gives us warning When at full tide our youthfull bloud doth flow In every vein and when our pulses dance A healthfull measure when our stomachs know No qualms at all as we would say by chance Snatch'd are our bodies to their longest homes And Death is past before a sicknesse comes How
Midnights MEDITATIONS OF DEATH WITH Pious and Profitable Observations and Consolations Perused by FRANCIS QUARLES A little before his Death Published by E. B. LONDON Printed by John Macock and are to be sold at his house in White Bear Court on Adling hill 1646. Profitable and pious thoughts of Death Part 1. Of Deaths certainty IN heav'ns high Parliament an act is pass'd Subscrib'd by that eternall Three in One That each created wight must one day tast Of Deaths grim terrours They exempted none That sprang from Adam All that red-earth-strain Must to their earth again An ancient Register of burialls lies In Genesis to let us understand That whosoever is begotten dies And every sort is under Deaths command His Empire 's large Rich poore old young and all Must go when he doth call Mans life 's a book and some of them are bound Handsome and richly some but meanly clad And for their matter some of them are found Learned and pious others are too bad For vilest fires Both have their end There 's a conclusion penn'd As well as title-page that 's infancy The matter that 's the whole course of our lives One 's Satans servant walking wickedly Another 's pious and in goodnesse thrives One 's beggerly another 's rich and brave Both drop into the grave One man a book in folio lives till age Hath made him crooked and put out his eyes His beard doth penance And death in a rage Mows down another whilst the infant cries In 's midwives lap that 's an Epitome Both wear deaths liverie God made not death Whence are we mortall then Sure Sinne 's the parent of this pale-fac'd foe Nought else did hatch it and the first of men He was Deaths grandfather And all the wo That in this or the next life we are in Is caused by our sinne Meditation 1. IF I must dye I 'll catch at every thing That may but mind me of my latest breath Deaths-heads graves knells blacks tombs all these shall bring Into my soul such usefull thoughts of death That this sable King of fears Though in chiefest of my health He behind me come by stealth Shall not catch me unawares When-e're I visit any dying friend Each sigh and scrich and every death-bed-grone Shall reade me such a lecture of mine end That I 'll suppose his case will be mine own As this poore man here doth lie Rack'd all o're with deadly pain Never like to rise again Time will come when so must I. Thus ghastly shall I look thus every part Of me shall suffer thus my lips shall shrivel My teeth shall grin and thus my drooping heart Shall smoke out sighs and grones and all the evil Which I see this man lye under What sinne earns and death doth pay I shall feel another day Sinne from torment who can sunder Thus will my mournfull friends about me come My livelesse carcase shall be stretched out I must be packing to my longest home Thus will the mourners walk the streets about Thus for me the bells will toll Thus must I bid all adieu World and wife and children too Thus must I breathe out my soul At others fun'ralls when I see a grave That grave shall mind me of mortalitie I 'll think that such a lodging I must have Thus in the pit my bones must scattered lie Here one bone and there another Here my ribs and there my scull And my mouth of earth be full I must call the worms my mother When I do look abroad methinks I see A fun'rall Sermon penn'd in every thing Each creature speaks me mortall Yonder tree Which not a quarter since the glorious spring Had most proudly cloth'd in green And was tall and young and strong Now the ax hath laid along Nothing but his stump is seen And yonder fruitfull valleys yesternight Did laugh and sing they stood so thick with corn In was the sickle and 't was cut down quite And not a sheaf will stand to morrow morn Yonder beauteous imps of May Pretty eye-delighting flowers Whose face heav'n doth wash with showers To put on their best aray I saw the fair'st the Lily and Carnation And coy Adonis particoloured sonne Subject to such a sudden alteration That in a day their fading beauty 's gone This tree this corn and this flower Or what things else vainest are To my self I do compare Who may die within this houre Meditation 2. I 'LL ne'r be proud of beauty if I must Be blemish'd when I die And if the grave Will mix my beauty with the vilest dust What profits pride Reader I 'll pardon crave Here to set you down a story Of as rare and fair a She As the Sunne did ever see Whom Death robb'd of all her glory I once saw Phoebus in his mid-day shine Triumphing like the Sovereigne of the skies Untill two brighter rayes both more divine Outblazed his and they were this Nymphs eyes Forthwith Sol curtain'd his light Looking very red for shame To be vanquish'd by this Dame And did slink out of her sight I once saw silver Cynthia nights fair Queen In her full orb dimming each lesser flame Till this Nymphs beauty-vying front was seen Outshining hers then she look'd wan for shame The man in her knew he how But to quit that giddy place She had so divine a face Would have dwelt upon her brow Once was this woman pleas'd to walk the fields Then proudly fragrant with Dame Flora's store The damask rose unto her beauty yields And was contented to be fair no more Sure I cannot say how truly Yet mongst many 't was a fame That the rose did blush for shame And the violet look'd most bluly Once did this woman to the temple go Where doth fair Venus marble-statue lie Cut to the life that one can hardly know But that it lives indeed When she came nigh He who then the temple kept After would be often telling She was so super-excelling That for mad the marble wept Melodious musick 's warbled by the spheres Swans sing their Epitaphs in curious layes Once with a singing Swan a part she bears As soon 's those corall doores dismiss'd her voice The poore Swan held his peace and di'd And the spheres as men do say Dumbly move unto this day This was by a rivers side What think you now of such a glorious woman This Phoenix sure was she if any might That might be proud And yet the tongue of no man Can well expresse nor any pen can write What grim death hath done unto her Now she 's of another feature Hardly can you know the creature Stay a while and we will view her Th' almighty King that dwells above in heaven Directs to 's high Shrieve Death a certain writ Wherein a strait imperiall charge was given At 's utmost peril forthwith on sight of it To arrest that piece of beauty And to wrap her up in clay 'gainst the last great judgement-day Death address'd him to his duty And with
what 's sold is worth is stealing Or to give lesse the art of multiplying Our lands or gold or silver by subtracting From other mens or by unjust exacting What is not ours Better in my opinion It were to feed on barley-bread and pottage Made of salt water and an onion To wear a thred-bare coat and in a cottage Smoke-bound and rusty pennylesse to dwell Then to get wealth unlesse I get it well And when 't is justly gotten every thought That I 'll bestow upon it shall be such As it deserves If heav'ns full hand hath brought Plenty into my bosome if as much I have as I could wish my care shall be To think of 't all as of a vanity A vanity that for ought I do know May take its flight and in an houre leave me As God had many wayes for to bestow His bounty on me he hath to bereave me As many more as moveables I 'll deem it From me or with me and I will esteem it A strong temptation unto many a sinne That never will perform what it doth promise That wealths fair books when we are deepest in The greater reck'ning God exacteth from us I 'll not afford my wealth a better thought And I do think I think on 't as I ought And as I ought I 'll use 't Not to be fewel For any lust nor to maintein my riot Not to be prodigall vainglorious cruel Nor yet to make my potent purse disquiet My poorer brother but from thence I 'll raise My neighbours profit and my Makers praise Where there is need I 'll ready be to give Glad to distribute naked ones I 'll cover Hungry and thirsty souls I will relieve Widows distress'd in me shall find another Husband to orphanes I will be in stead Of parents to provide their daily bread I 'll never empty send the poore away The Church shall ever find my purse unty'd The King shall have his due without delay The Common-wealth shall never be deny'd Thus shall my wealth be common unto many If ever God be pleas'd to send me any Riches so justly gotten and imploy'd So piously although they cannot make A man immortall that he should avoid The grave and rottennesse yet do not shake The soul with terrours and such desperate fears As what 's ill gotten doth when Death appears Make me a faithfull Steward holy Father Of what thou hast intrusted me withall Where I straw'd not grant I may never gather Nor sinne in spending Then send Death to call Me to account Lord when thou wilt and I Shall entertein the message joyfully Sect. 2. Honours cannot protect us from the stroke of Death OF honours all that can be said doth meet In Kings and Princes glory majesty Command and titles yet their sacred feet Trudge to the grave-ward Power Royaltie A Kingdome Crown and Sceptre cannot be Protections against mortalitie Princes are Gods on earth yet sure they must As well as meaner men be sick and die Their Royall bodies shall be chang'd to dust No crown below is worn eternally Of all those Kings which in Gods book we reade One died and another reign'd in 's stead If good and loyall subjects had their wish A gracious Prince should never see the grave Nor should his Royall corps be made a dish For worms but pious wishes will not save A King from dust As other mens his breath Is in his nostrils Crowns must bow to Death Sure were it not a kind of petty treason To wish his Majesty so long without A crown of glory I should think it reason To pray his lamp of life might ne'r go out Though not in 's self yet Lord grant he may be Immortall in a blessed progenie Meditation 1. MOngst us an humble great one is a wonder Rarer by ods then is a winters thunder Great men and good each other seldome kisse Pride to preferment 's married O! there is Not a thought within their brain Of a grave nor yet of seeing Death nor do they dream of being Changed into dust again Consider Sir though you have been a taster Of Princes favours mounted all degrees Of honour have been called Lord and Master Though your approch hath bow'd as many knees As once mighty Hamans yet Is it not Eternity That you hold your greatnesse by Death and you must one day meet As I remember I have read a story That one in Embassy sent from the King Of Persia to Rome was shew'd the glory Of that proud citie every famous thing That was by the Romanes thought To expresse the great and mighty Prowesse of their glorious city Thither was the Persian brought There he beheld such glorious structures rais'd To dare the skies that outwent all examples Where art and cost workman and founder prais'd Baths Theatres Tombs Monuments and Temples Statues that would wonder-strike Any mortall man that should Once behold them neither could All the world shew the like After this view Romes mighty Emperour Longing for praises in the Persian tongue Demanded of this strange Embassadour What he now thought of Rome I should do wrong To your sacred Majesty Thus th' Ambassadour reply'd And this glorious place beside If I should not magnifie Both you and it But one thing I dislike In Rome it self I see that Death doth reigne As well here as in Persia and doth strike The greatest down and when he please doth chain People Senatours and Kings In cold fetters made of dust Even noble Romanes must Feel what putrefaction brings Your Emperours themselves have had their turns In fun'rall piles These tombs can testify The Caesars mortall In these sacred urns What lies but royall dust Mortality Happens here and I know no man But hath power to hold his breath As long and is free from Death As much as the noblest Romane Look we a little on this land of ours Here 's plenty peace and every other blessing Into her bosome God in plenteous showres Rains kindnesses that are beyond expressing Sure we of this kingdome may Justly our Creatour praise For a share in happier dayes Then Rome did at best enjoy Ours is a land of barly and of wheat Our stones are iron and our hills yield brafse A land wherein th' inhabitants do eat Bread without scarcenesse here our blessings passe All enumeration What God severally bestows Upon others joyntly flows From his bounty to this nation Yet here men die too not the russet Clowns And Peasants onely that do hold the plow And Shepherds that sit piping on the downs And milk-maids that do court'sie to a cow But those noble men that have Titles lordships farms and mannours And a great book full of honours These go down into the grave See you not yonder super-stately palace Three generations since that house was builded A great man did it for his Lordships solace In summer-time but dying up he yielded To his heir this stately pile This heir left it to his brother He dy'd too and then another Swagger'd there
time a sudden sicknesse came And seised him in each extremer part This grudging did begin to spoil his game But at the length it fast'ned on his heart There it plung'd him wofully And forthwith the man is led Home and laid upon his bed Think him now at point to die A little after came into the room A gallant troup of necessarie stuff His coachman falconer huntsman page and groom His mistresse with her hands both in a muff Sorie all to see him so But see how these fools invent To give a sick man content And to ease him ere they go One breaks a jest another tells a tale One strikes the lute another sings a dittie But neither of them pray to God at all Another tells what news is in the citie Everie man is in his vein And all jointly do contrive Pleasant passages to drive Out of doore their masters pain They ask'd him if he pleas'd to take the air Or call for 's coach and ride to see a play And whether he would hunt the buck or hare Or to a tavern go to drive away Or to drown times tediousnesse Or else to a tennis-court Whither gallants do resort Or else play a game at chesse The man reply'd Ye know I must be gone The way of all I cannot tell how soon And I have other things to think upon Already it is with me afternoon Erelong my declining sunne Needs must set Oh! my life hangs On a thred these mortall pangs Crack it Out my glasse is runne Time was I doted on these idle toyes Now can they not a dram of comfort yield Too late I see they are not death-bed joyes No refuge from soul-vexing storms no shield When a mortall blow is given Prate no more let not a man Open 's mouth unlesse he can Tell me how to get to heaven There was another that for nothing car'd It was a woman but for vain excesse In bravery of clothes no cost was spar'd Nor art nor care that served to expresse To the full a female pride But at length it came to passe That this spruce and gallant lasse Fell extremely sick and di'd But I must tell you that whilst like a lion Pains tore her bones in pieces ere she sent Her last breath out imagine her of Sion A matchlesse daughter to her chamber went Weeping ripe her good handmaiden Purposing as much as may be To chear up her dying Ladie For with comforts was she laden Thus she began and spake it with a grace Be comforted good Madame never let A little sicknesse spoil so good a face Your Ladyship cannot so soon forget Your contents If ever any Gentlewoman liv'd that might Find materialls of delight You good Madame have as many Here for your feeet are tinkling ornaments Here are your bonnets and your net-work-cauls Fine linen tōo that every eye contents Your head-bands tablets eare-rings chains and falls Your nose-jewels and your rings Your hoods crisping-pinnes wimples Glasses that bewray your pimples Vails and other pretty things Here are your dainty mantles and your sutes Of changeable apparel and your tires Round like the moon your bracelets finger-fruits Of busie houres mufflers and golden wires And so many more that no man Can repeat nor yet remember From October to September This would comfort any woman Suppose her if you will an English Lady And think you heare her waiting-gentlewoman Bespeak her thus Madame here is a gawdy And glorious shew these fashions are not common Here 's your beaver and your feather Here are silver-ribband knots Trunks full of rich riding-coats Gallant shelters 'gainst the weather Here are your holland and your cambrick-smocks Your gowns of velvet satten taffatie Irons to curvifie your flaxen locks And spangled roses that outshine the skie For your head here 's precious geere Bonelace-cros-cloths squares shadows Dressings which your Worship made us Work upon above a yeare Rich chains of pearl to tie your hair together And others to adorn your snowie breast Silk stockings starre-like shoes of Spanish leather And that which farre excelleth all the rest And begets most admiration Of your clothes is not their matter Though the world affords not better But it is their Frenchest fashion Madame believe 't the fairest of the Graces Subscribes to you Whenever you appear Adorned with your gold and silver-laces Your presence makes the greedi'st eye good chear This consideration In time past was wont to please you Now then Madame let it ease you And afford you consolation The dying woman when this speech was done After a grone or two made this replie Doth such a curtain-lecture suit with one That everie houre doth look when she should die 'T is not congruous Wer'st thou able My poore naked soul to dresse With a Saviours righteousnesse This indeed were comfortable But all the rest is not Oh! how I grieve To think upon my former vanitie Alas I feel these toyes cannot relieve Nor ease nor comfort Thus let luxurie Pitch on what it will its joyes Are but painted nor can bring us Ease when pangs of Death do wring us Much lesse can they make our dayes Eternall here Thy servant Lord beseecheth The presence of thy spirit that discovers How vain that carnall joy is which bewitcheth With pleasant poison all her sottish lovers Let-not earth-delights forestall me Help thy servant to provide Pleasures that will then abide When thou sendest Death to call me Meditation 2. FArewell those pleasures which the creatures breed These carnall comforts shall be none of mine They slink away in time of greatest need I 'll get me comforts that are more divine Such as God provideth for us By his Spirit and in his word They are such as will afford Joy unspeakable and glorious Unsanctified palates cannot find A relish in Gods service 't is their follie That nothing in it suiteth with their mind That they account religion melancholie And the cause of their misprision Is because they cannot see Things divine for yet they be In their naturall condition But sanctified souls have better eyes Each Person in the sacred Trinitie Sends comfort down and such as farre outvies The best delight that is below the skie Father Sonne and holy Ghost Be it spoke with reverence Seem to strive which shall dispense Blessings that do comfort most The Father as his title often writes Himself a God of peace and consolation He sends me comforts by those sacred lights Which bring me errands from his habitation And so firm and full and free Is each promise in his book That on whichsoe'r I look Blessed comforts I do see So firm that first the hugest hills and mountains Shall dance out of their places starres shall fall Streams shall run backward to their mother-fountains The earth shall tumble ere he will recall One of 's promises For why And this gives strong consolation In the middest of temptation He 's a God and cannot lie So full that there 's not any thing left out
sincere in all his actions And for a pious mans Astronomie What if he cannot tell the sev'rall motions Those orbs have which do roll about the skie Starres names site bignesse and such other notions What if he know not how soon The sunne will eclipsed be Nor hath wit enough to see The new world that 's in the moon Yet he doth know the milkie way that leads Unto the palace of the highest King Whose presence the whole host of heaven dreads Who made the starres the spheres and everie thing Steers the course that each orb runnes Binds starres influence looseth the bands Of Orion and his hands Guide Arcturus with his sonnes For Geometrie what if he cannot tell How many miles the vast earth is about Yet doth his pious art by farre excell In finding many greater matters out Matters that exceed the strength Of best wits the full extension Of Christ 's love in each dimension Height and depth breadth length For Grammar he can wickednesse decline His supernaturall Philosophie Is wisdome to salvation Most divine His musick is That God that dwells on high Is pleas'd with no other tone There is nothing he can heare Makes such musick in his eare As a sanctified grone For Physick his most admirable knowledge Hath found out a Catholicon This ranks His skill deservedly above the Colledge Above French or Italian mountebanks There 's no sicknesse he is sure Be it ne'r so strong or foul That affecteth any soul But the bloud of Christ can cure The greatest Clerk is but a learned fool If 's learning be not mixt with godlinesse The greatest Scholar's he that goes to school To learn of Christ the wayes of holinesse Thus if learning be a treasure That doth please or skill in arts Or to be a man of parts He that 's holy finds this pleasure Doth toothsome and delicious chear delight The godly have it once a week at least Our bounty-handed Saviour doth invite His servants to a rich and sumptuous feast Where his own self is our server Such a feast of fattest things As if all the guests were Kings Where faith may be her own carver Do riches please A godly mans estate Surpasseth that of Croesus he hath more Then out of Christ is had at any rate God hath endow'd him with a blessed store Better then a heap of gold Which nor thief nor moth nor rust Can steal eat or turn to dust His are bags that ne'r wax old Gods rich and precious promises are his Which by a precious faith he makes his own Gods richest mercy there 's no wealth like this Christs precious bloud whereof a drop alone Was of higher valuation Then all men and Angels be Or what e'r the sunne did see Ever since the first creation Doth rich apparel please Christs righteousnesse Clothes all his members to conceal their shame Ne'r was Kings daughter in so pure a dresse Unlesse she were adorned with the same 'T is a robe that God doth please Angels that on God do wait And ne'r lost their first estate Are not cloth'd like one of these For all delights the cheating world hath none So good by half mongst all her painted store As those the soul finds in religion With purest joy the pious heart runnes o'r Let the world diversifie Her delights a thousand wayes Yet they come short of those joyes That are found in pietie When I must die my joy that 's naturall Forsaketh me that which is secular Takes leave assoon as ever Death doth call Joyes that were criminall converted are Into most tormenting fears Onely that which is divine On a Death-bed will be mine And what if when Death appears It cannot shield me from that fatall blow I would not it should do me so much wrong For if I were immortall here below I were not happie yet 't will go along With me when I do depart Carnall joyes Lord from me banish Let divine delights replenish Ev'rie corner of my heart Sect. 4. Friends cannot protect us from the stroke of Death IF I were great rich prosperous secure Successefull in the world I should be sure That more time-servers would my friendship woo Then I could reckon in a yeare or two As greedie Eagles to a carcase hasten And with sharp tallons on their prey do fasten So would they flock about me Or if I Could learn the art of popularity I might be rich in friends yet all my store Would not know how to keep Death out of doore Meditation 1. OF Proteus 't is fained that he could Transform himself to any kind of shape Into a Dove or Lamb and when he would Into a Tiger Lion Bear or Ape Or a Mountain Rock or Spring Or Earth Water Fire Air Into any forms thaâ— are Stampt in any kind of thing And Aristippus could exactly flatter He had the art of winning gainfull friends And that his fortune might be made the fatter Had all behaviours at his fingers ends He could grone when 's friend was sickly And could weep when he was sad Any humour good or bad Did become him very quickly Did I believe that metempsychosis Pythagoras did dream of I should swear That Proteus ghost to this day neither is In hell nor yet in heaven but doth wear Now a body and the base Ghost of Aristippus dwells In a thousand bodies else How could thousands have the face To personate so many humours act So many parts at once and balk no sinne Yea perpetrate with ease the basest fact That hell e'r punished to wind them in-to great friendships though they misse Heavens favour all the while Dreaming that a great mans smile Is on earth the onely blisse And yet when that last enemie shall come And grind their aching bones with griping throes To bring their bodies to their longest home There 's not a man mongst all their friends that knows How to take away their pain In comes ghastly Death among The midst of that friendly throng And turns them to dust again Meditation 2. THere 's none among the sacred troup of Saints Yet militant below but doth desire Gods favour most and most of all laments When it is lost and alway sets a higher Estimate upon the rayes That are darted from above By the God of peace and love Then on all he here enjoyes Ne'r doth the chased hart in hottest weather When horse and hound pursue him o'r the plains And hunt him sweating twentie miles together That all his bloud is boil'd within his veins When he 's to the hardest driven Pant so much for water-brooks As a soul deserted looks For a kind aspect from heav'n Once did Elias zealous prayers climb To heav'n and made the windows there so fast This came to passe in wicked Ahabs time That one and twentie months twice told were past E'r there fell a showre of rain Or a drop of morning dew In the meadows nothing grew Nor was any kind of grain Fed by the parched mold How do ye think
great care gives warrant by and by Unto his baillifs Fever Pox and Gout Phrensie Strangury Colick Squinancy Consumption Dropsie and an ugly rout Beside these for to assail her Deaths command was that they must Tie her fast in chains of dust He gave charge that none should bail her You would not think with what a furious pace These catchpoles flie to pull this creature down But Pox was nimblest she got to her face And plow'd it up This hag goes in a gown Rugged and of colour tawny Button'd o're from top to toe Skin-deep beauties deadly foe Uglier hag was never any Fain would the rest have fastned on her too But that this hag had frighted out her soul Now looks her carcase of another hue Grim ugly lothsome ghastly and as foul As did ever eye look on What 's become of that complexion Which held all hearts in subjection In a moment all is gone If we might be so bold to dig the grave Some few years hence where this good woman lies Sure we should find this beauty but a slave To pallid putrefaction and a prize For those silly vermine worms As they crawl in stinking swarms She doth hug them in her arms And doth give them suck by turns Here 's a deformed lump indeed and this Must be the fortune of the fairest face None then are proud but fools They love amisse Whose hearts are chain'd to any thing but grace From the beauty of the skin In the loveliest outward part Lord vouchsafe to turn my heart To love that which is within Meditation 3. IF Death will come sure there will come an end Of all this worlds deep-biting misery Nothing adverse that 's here on earth doth tend Beyond the grave that 's a delivery From the pow'r of men and devils And what-ever other wo May befall us here below Death's a shelter from all evils Here I am poore my daily drops of sweat Will not maintein my full-stock'd family A dozen hungry children crie for meat And I have none nor will words satisfie Could I give their belly ears 'T were a comfort or could fill Hungry stomacks with good will Or make daily bread of tears Here the oppressour with his griping claws Sits on my skirts my racking land-lord rears Both rent and fine with potent looks he aws Me from mine own Scarce any man but bears In his bosome Ahabs heart Horse-leach-like that 's ever craving Other mens and sick of having Right or wrong will catch a part Here in these clay-built houses sicknesse reigns I have more maladies then I can name Each member of my body hath its pains Moreover weeping groning sadnesse shame Slanders melancholy fear Discontents disgraces losses And a thousand other crosses Must be born if I live here But these are finite all When I am dead My poverty is ended and my care I heare my famish'd children crie for bread No longer Then I drink I lodge I fare Just as well as Caesar doth There ends cold and nakednesse All my former wretchednesse Death is meat and drink and cloth There 's no face-grinding There the mighty cease From troubling there the weary be at rest The servant 's freed the pris'ner is at ease All 's still and quiet no man is oppress'd For incroachers there are none Not a poore man 's wronged nor Is his vineyard longed for Every man may keep his own Sicknesse there 's none when-ever Death shall take My body hence and lodge it in the clay I shall not feel a tooth or finger ake Nor any other misery that may In the least degree displease me For all sores the grave hath plasters And it cureth all disasters Of all burdens Death will ease me Malicious tongues fired below in hell There will not hurt me nor the poisonous breath Of whispering detractours I shall dwell Securely in the dust One stroke of Death Sets me out of gun-shot quite Not the deepest-piercing tongue Can there do me any wrong Bark they may but cannot bite Lord I am thine and if it be thy will While I do live a stranger here below Brim-high with bitternesse my cup to fill And make me drink 't yet Lord withall bestow But thy grace and thou shalt see me Patient and my comfort 's this That a short affliction 't is In a moment Death may free me Meditation 4. IF I must die it must be my endeavour So to provide that every thought of Death May be a thought of comfort that when-ever That aged sire shall take away my breath I may willingly lay down This old house that 's made of clay Gladly welcoming the day That brings an eternall crown But of all things a holy life 's the way Must lead me to a comfortable end To crucifie my lusts and to obey Gods sacred will in all things This doth tend Unto comfort joy and ease Mark the man that is upright And sets God alwayes in 's sight That mans end is ever peace What makes me fear a serpent 't is his sting The mischief 's there When that is taken out I can look on him as a harmlesse thing And in my bosome carry him about What makes Death look rufully Not Deaths self it is his sting That doth fear and horrour bring And makes men so loth to die The sting of death is sinne but there 's a Jesus Hath pluck'd it out The guilt 's done quite away The stain is wash'd He sent his Spirit to ease us In some good measure of that kingly sway Which o're us sinne held before Blessed work of grace now I Strongest lusts can mortifie In my soul sinne reigns no more Now in me holinesse is wrought which is A pious disposition of the heart Inclining me to hate what 's done amisse In me and others never to depart From God to left hand or right Nor one of his laws to break But to think and do and speak What 's well-pleasing in his sight Each act from faith and love ariseth and The end I aim at is my Makers praise His word 's my rule my warrant 's his command Thus am I fitted Death cut off my dayes If thou wilt within this houre I will thank thee for thy pain For to me to die is gain I 'll not fear a jote thy power What canst thou do that justly may affright me Though with thee in the dark I dwell a space Yet canst thou not eternally benight me Thou art my passage to a glorious place Where shall not be any night My rais'd ashes shall enjoy There an everlasting day And an uneclipsed light I fear not death because of putrefaction Nor if I might would willingly decline it My body gains by 't 't is the graves best action God as a founder melts it to refine it Death cannot annihilate And in despite of the grave Yet I shall a body have Fairer and in better state Gods second work excells his first by ods Our second birth life Adam to repair Our bodies is a second