to all the world how they dissemble Pray with the Lip not heart wrest sacred Text To serve their owne ends first and then Gods next Provide to live in pestilent Times beginne Take greater care to fly from death then sinne Ther 's nothing in our Flesh but wickednesse 〈◊〉 to live and obscene wantonnesse O vaine desire of mortalls can there be In flight or Physick crue ' gainst heav'ns decree No no ther 's no escape no way to this Mans good life onely meets with mercies kisse We forget now that dreadfull dismall chance The terrible Arrow of Gods vengeance When death buried farre more then the earth could swallow And no man to the Grave his friend durst follow O why should Mortalls wish long life to live What comfort what true joy do's this live give Ther 's nothing not one thought that do's us good But it is strangl'd straight by flesh and blood Holy Saint Paul finding the fleshrebell Desir'd to be dissolv'd proud flesh to quell And Sacred Symeon sung ' gainst sinnes increase Lord let thy servant now depart in peace Shall such soule sweenting preparations be Forgotten quite O blind securitie What is it we behold in this vaine life But daily dangers soule-bewitching strife The Flesh is full of dagger never quiet 'Mong fullfed dishes and Luxurious diet When my Soule-Erring Eyes staring behold A dang'rous strumpet flame in glittering gold And murd'ring beauty sparkling from her Eye Burning temptation then me thinkes I spie My most apparent mischiefe plainely see How I ne'r strive to please my God as shee Strives to please men such is the flaming pride Of the vaine flesh it hurts on ev'ry side Ther 's nothing constant in us if to day Vertue we love to morrow Vice obey What a notorious Coxcombe unto sinne Lust makes of Man slave to a whores soft skinne What 's a delicious Harlot but a cheater A poyson'd Marmalad Box that rots the earer A Harlot Man most fitly may compare To Quicksilver whose Mertall like asnare When er'e it meets with gold does evermore Mlingle it selfe so commonly a whore 'T is not the Man but money she respects And mingling with the one she both infects Drinks deepe in Taverns Swaggers Sweares and raves Gets gold from fooles to spend it upon knaves The cheife praise of a good wise do's not lie In outward shew but inward pietie If Vertue rules her bloud she merits love If not I will assure thee shee will prove Like a deceitfull glasse where man may see Hee 's meerly cheated in her O miserie Man makes lewd women proud with looking at And wondrous wanton to beleeve that The onely cure Lust's raging flames to quench Is Aqua Lachrymarum that will stench The wounds proud women so delight to make On the poore soule of Man make him to quake Afear'd to stand on that false rocke of Ice Idlenesse feeder of foule carnall Vice Nurse of blacke thoughts south-Fogg which rots the minde Leapours the soule and is the Northerne winde The cause of all sinnes stormes that dang'rous flood Lusts surging Ocean swelling in Mans blood O Devill desire of Lust me me forsake I charge thee hence by him that made hell quake By that Almighty One in sacred Trine All holy spells and Charmes Magick Divine By that sweet Excellent Sacred Puritie Sister of Angells Virgin Chastity Fly from me all base thoughts be just mine eyes And be your selves hate wantons Witcheries Impendet periculum omnibus THE IESVITE NOt like that Masse-Priest he whose mouth is cram'd With words that speake all Protestants are damn'd Him nor his slocke I dare not censure so Nor meane to write more then I justly know To be most true in which knowne Path I finde Counterfeit Catholiques so grossely blinde They dare outface Heav'ns Truth forg'd lies maintaine To Cloake the cunning Iesuites subtile Braine He that do's Theefe-like waite for vertues fall Lives in perpetuall watch to blow up all The President recorded stands for ever In this Realmes safety which hell's Plot can never Wipe from Rememb'rance never shall the Evill Of that close Secretary to the Devill That Iesuite Garnet live forgot while I Have Pen or Hand to write his Tragedy That Myne of Murther Mischiefes Master-vice Lodg'd in the Politicque skull of Avarice His desp'rate Soule was such he durst to swimme A Sea of Vice be rackt in ev'ry limme All tortures suffer rather then reveale The Treason his Religion bids conceale Witnesse thou Ghost of Garnet this is true He that han'gd drawne and quarter'd had his due To him was knowne the powder pitchie Treason Never to be forgot he knew the season When where and how that suddaine bloudie blow Black Hell-bread Thunder flaming overthrow Should have beene given knew the Times short space When no soule should have time to pray for Grace Or cry God helpe The Treason was so foule The Traitors would have damn'd both body and Soule If in their power and ev'ry soule i' th Ayre Tost up sent unprepar'd of heav'nly prayer With all their sinnes O horrid horrid Act All this the Iesuite knew conceal'd the fact And rather then disclose least warning give King Prince and Nobles not a soule should liue Here was a Villaine yet I 've knowne in Spayne The Traitors death so moan'd such Credit gaine Though here he dyde for Treasons just complaint There Monster Iesuites make a Martyr'd Saint Mischievous Masse-Priests to his meriting fame At the high Altar in a spacious frame Advance to him as to a Saint most blest His Body-mangled Picture thus exprest Garnets Picture Bare Head white Beard Lookes sober in his Gowne Him over head Angels with Laurell Crowne About his Neck a long large Haltertide Hangs as befitting such downe the Left side His Belly ript bloud seeming open straw Holding in his righ hand his pictur'd draw Beneath his right side flames a Heart in fire Bove his left Limmes quarter'd Treasons hire Presented on a Tower which Pictur'd storie Straw-fainted set up to 'th Arch-Traitors Glory Invites each eye yea all the world to see Iesuites Protectors of all Villany Poys'ning of Princes held as trifling things With them 't is meritorious to kill Kings Can this Religion be they thinke it pure But man ne'r knew Religion more impure Their Church is but their Cloake bad deeds to further The only sanctuary for bloud and murther Plots Practizes hellish abomination Pardons for Treason holy approbation Of that ill-Sainted wretch his cursed fault That Father to Faux the Divill i' th vault Such Iudas-Iesuites ever Traitors prove To King and Prince disloyall in their love Yet outward fawning seeme on bended knee Low as the earth O true hypocrisie Vnder the mild aspect of Reverence In duty and submisse obedience With Oylie Eloquence best pleasing Phrase Catching Orations full of flatt'ring praise When in the heart abides no spot of good All treach'rous thoughts all thirsting after bloud The fall of Princes changes alteration The Protestants Religion 's desolation Such is
and which makes it worse The Conscience corrosive confounding witt The minds Canker soules burning Feaver fitt Mong all enticemcuts pleasures quassing Boule All the sharpe combats of a Christian soule None feircer then the warrs of a Chast mind Ther 's a continuall Fight which good Men find Never subdu'd without wet eies true care In praying Why the victory is rare Chastities still in danger 'mong delights As Truth in much talke Souldiers in fierce sights The walls of Chastity once batter'd downe Maides loose their Honour Vertues rich renowne O Lust what 's thy delight thy full fruition Of Pleasure but the Path way to Perdiiton Seandall dishonour foule reproach and shame Will blast thy being blot out thy good name O happie is that Man happie the Maide That 's Chast cleare consciences are ne'r afraid Of Iudgement Death and hell no sad affright Tortures the mind that 's chast ther 's true delight Witnesse the two-fold feare that do's belong To Chastity and Lust feare to doe wrong And grieve her Husband is the chast wises part She feares her slack of Love lest he depart Gives no crosse words no angry lookes nor sowre Nor do's she seeme to lumpe to powte to lowre She feares t' offend her husband shunnes all strife Togaine his Presence which she loves 'bove life But the lewd Harlot when her Mate's from home Feare makes her wish that he might never come Lest his approach unlook't for terrifie And catch her in her base Adultery Shee 's fill'd with feare doubts starts least creeke o' th doore O 't is a dreadfull sinne to be a Whore Beauty in the Face and Lust within the heart Kills Soule and Body ruines ev'ry part Strike me Eternall Essence with the dart Of Saint-like Chastitie give me a heart Of flesh so chastly pleasing that poore I May live in Chastity a chast soule die Midnights-Meditation VVHen I contemplate Heav'n and take no care For worldly vanities then my soule how farre How amorously faire thou art destroying sinnes Man 's a rich Monarch then true joy beginnes Never till then never did any fight ' Gainst sinne but gain'd unspeakeable delight This when I thinke upon and practise too Heav'ns in my eye want nor the worst of woe Distracts my senses but when I roote my mind On this rude world Vertue is soone strooke blind Witt reason all my senses are confounded Devills assault my flesh my soule is wounded Save me O save me Lord thy worthlesse Creature Pittie the weakenesse of my Mortall nature Forgive all forfeitures my sinnes have made Vowes Promises protestations never paid I promis'd still to mend to turne mine eyes From sinfull wales yet Heav'n knowes all were lies Shame to my soule how dare I then looke up Expect least solace from sweete Mercies Cup O I am angry vext to th' very heart I act not thy will Lord but mine owne part A sinfull Tragicke Part which will deface My soule helpe Heav'n send thy restraining Grace One Drop of Grace Celestiall can refresh A fainting soule cleanse Lord my corrupt flesh Vn-storme sinnes sulphurous storme I burne I fry Like the impatient Fish which violently Scorch't to the quick it's raging heate to tame Leaps from the Pan into the burning flame Such is the flaming Torture I endure Scorcht for my sinnes where shall I fly for cure Want is a Mis'rie much Wealth a trouble Honour a burthen Beautie but a bubble Pleasure a shadow advancement dangerous Friendship a false Winde and disgrace odious This world of sinne circles my braine with snares A thousand distractions Millions of cares Beates on the Anvile of my poore weake head To ruine sense to strike all good thoughts dead Oft musing on the Worlds Witch-pleasing pelfe I thus beginne to argue with my selfe Why might not I be Rich rush God do's see This meane estate of mine fitter for me Then I collect my Spirits praise that God Which keepes me still unscourg'd restraines the Rod Of his just Vengeance that might justly fall On me and mine in Iustice ruine all Had I the Worlds possession in my hand All Potentates on Earth at my command What then I then subject to all entices Might fill my little-world with World of Vices It is enough I live and 't is too much That I am fed or cloathed if I grutch My daies of sinne encrease wax worse and worse Whither O whither shall I direct my course Downe downe foule flesh great God my selfe I blame I aske thy pardon asking in his name That is my Life the Light the Way the Word Mercy and Truth faire Truth which do's afford Mercy to all onely prescribes this taske That whatsoever Mortall soules do aske The Father in his Name it shall be done To glorifie the Father in the Sonne O infinite sweetnesse O Immortall love Thou God the Father that dost rule above The Highest Heav'ns Thee in the blessed Name Of Jesus Christ Theanthropos that came To save beleeving soules I aske implore Pardon O pardon out with sinnes rotten core Rooted too neare my heart whisper thy feare Into my soule let me not onely heare Thy sacred word but in the practicke part Make perfect use of it nere let me start From thee my God let sad Teares from mine eyes And sighes from my heart expresse my grievancies Though I fall foule and fearefully each day Lord let me not fall finally away And I if needs must fall let my fall be From death to life from sinne to sanctity Amor Dei amorem Deo parit The Divine Dreame VVOrme that I am O how shall I begin To praise that God that in my sleepe ' gainst sin Gave divine warning sent truths sacred scrole Which to and fro hovring i' th' Ayre did role This way and that at last as if Heav'ns will Had so decreed the waving scrole stood still Much like the golden Taper of the Sun At the command of Man the sonne Nun In which me thouht I read and read it ore Peccair no majs that is sinne no more Written in Spanish this seeming sight so strange Workt in my dreaming spirit such a change That startling from my drowsie sleepe I cride To heav'n thus instantly with Teares repli'd O sacred Saviour humbly I implore Give me the spirit of Grace to sinne no more For I am blind sinne clouds my sence of seeing Thy good my ill I 'me Natures brittle being Vext to the soule so infinitely opprest With sighes and groanes they cannot be exprest What shall I doe great Natures miracle Thou onely wise God Heav'ns firme Oracle Fashion me to thy will tip out with the core Of sinne in me that I may sinne no more Say to my soule lest I in soule despaire Thy grace sufficient is Cure Lord my care Speake but the word at the Centurion said Thy servant shall he heal'd Lord be my aid No Rod so sharpe nor no discase so sore But thy good Grace can cure to sinne no more Thou Lord by holy Text confirm'd dost say
I am the Lord that heales I Ropeca Thou God the true Phisitian art that can Be mine Lord be so pitty me weake man God my Physitian and his Grace the Physicke I must not will not cannot be sin-sicke Nomo loeditur nisi a seipso THE DIVINE ECCHO BETWEENE THE GOOD ANGELL Man in despaire And the DEVILL Man DEath to my Soule how long must I in vaine Heav'ns comfort crave yet endlessely remaine Fetter'd in sinne breake Heart give death free scope And must I then despaire is there no hope Angell Hope Man What Soule affected spirit to mine Eare Eccho's some sweet releife can hope come neare Sinnes shackl'd Slave from whom all Verues gon What 's to be Hop'd for when all hopes are done Angell Pardon Man How Pardon can Pardon raise a wretch Times reprobate like me I that can fetch Nor sigh nor teare sinnes furie to abate Can Heav'n free such a Soule so desolate Devill Too late Man Too late indeede my Sinnes sicke stonie heart Traytor to Truth Acts the Tragedian's Part Of ill so well I know not what to doe Frights terrours broken sleepes all speake my woe Yet Holy Writ tells me 't is better ever Late to repent then to repent me never Devill Never Man O my horrour never thou deadly accent Art thou from Heav'n or Hells curs'd dungeon sent Must my despairing thoughts for ever bend To Hellish Actions shall I ne'r amend Angell Amend Man Amend I cannot guifts of Grace I lacke Like him that weares Heav'ns Livery on 's backe Hells favour in his bosom wretched I Will Fate afford no present remedie Devill Die Man My soule must then miscarrie and be damb'c Devill Be damb'd Man Is that the onely solace all the pitty Sterne Fate affords poore Man in misery Devill I. Man Was my Creation in the Wombe of woe Ordain'd for Hell no otherwise then so Devill So. Man Die then I must and will appoint me where Devill Here. Man So quicke O true Physition for to die I hold it best and to linke suddenly Here in this Desart then where no eye sees Expresse the meanes to die among these Trees Devill These Trees Man If mong these Trees appoint to me an Altar Devill An Halter Man To be hang'd is base better to drowne my selfe Devill Do drowne thy selfe Man No no I will not die so like a Rat A Cicken or a Mouse a Dog a Cat But like the desp'rate Statesman I will be Made nothing by a Dramme poyson to me Is pretious balme I will die by poyson Devill I poyson Man 'T is the true death best Cure ' gainst discontent The Noble-Mans consumption my intent Huggs the conceit And yet my soule to slay By touch or tast is no true Roman way Canst thou not change thy word Devill Thy sword Man Shall my Sword then set free from all the strife Of Worldly woes this mockery of life Can my sword soone quit me from out this straight Devill Straight Man I tifle time come forth thou maine sole good Thou cure to all my cares sweete sword in blood I 'le drowne thy friendly Blade t is the best Part Thou ere canst Act to cleave thy Masters heart Fly soule to Ayre Flame Dust I know not where Earth serve thou me for Coffin and for Beere Angell Forbeare Man Who bids forbeare what Potent power commands My soule to live my sword and trembling hand To stop their bloudy course is it in Fate To alter Mans intent before too late Turning swift mischiefe to that sudden stay Whom death but ev'n now would make her Prey Angell Pray Man Pray unto whom my soule is in a mist See see me thinkes the Everlasting Fist Of Heav'n is stretcht waving the Crowne of grace Over my Cursed head Soule sinfull Face Ayme accurst I doe deserve the Rod Of Vengeance rather then to pray to God For the least drop of Mercy No I must Not dare to pray to him for he is just Angell Just Man And by his Iustice my impietie Merits Eternall endlesse miserie Sinnes just reward O teach me yet the way Thou Divine Eccho to what place to pray From whence implored mercy may be giv'n To cleare my sinnes great score and make all ev'n Angell Heav'n Man What words will best he fit and not betray me Angell Aye-mee Man Despaire deteines me backe commands me say I have no Will no Minde no heart to pray What shall I doe my soule is in a Feaver And in that word despaire I shall end ever Angell Endeavour Man O sacred sweetnesse true Caelestiall witt Thou summe of sweetnes stampt in sacred writ Endeavour yes sinnes strife is the best play My soule can Act God give heav'n I obey Angell Obey Cum humi limus cur non humilimus Deaths Masqueing Night AS mighty Kings in glorious Masques delight Death Times Grand-Masquer had his masqueing Night In evr'y Pallace ev'ry Nooke Death ranges Death takes his root from sinne Hee 's full of changes With solemne Pace unseene Death dos advance His Sable shaft to lead the World a dance Through Courts though Armyes the worlds wide Hall Controul'd of none Death is the end of all Wher 's then the Mighty Monarch wher 's the glory Of all his Court State Masques joyes tradsitory Beauties bright Earth-Bred-Star whose sparkling eye Shoots quivers of Love-shafts at Rich Majestie Death shall deface and in the bed of night Yeild farre more cause of terrour then delight Wher 's then the wanton glance that seem'd to skip From this Great Lord to that Great Ladyes Lap The nymble Sprightly Cap'ring Courtier then Forgotten lies there is no dancing when Devouring Death stabs with his sable shaft Vaine is the power of Art all mundane craft The deepe Physitians skill flatt'ring discourse Of health Death soone turnes to a dismall course Wher 's then the mighty Madams flâ—reing Pride Oyles Powders Paintings all are laid aside Gold glittring Glory Cloath of Silver silke Forgetfull Feasts their sinfull Baths of Milke When many a poore soule sterves wanting the food Of their supurfluous out-side pamper'd blood Gurles Purles Purfumes Court complements visites Hot-stirring Dishes soule bewitching Minuts All Pompe on Earth ambitious mad desires Revells and Lust-burnt Midnights unchast fires All are husht then Beggers and Kings all must Take a poore lodging in a bed of dust Death is a dreadfull Antimasque 't will fright The worlds Grand Masquer in his full delight Figures and Footings practiz'd to intrance Spectators Eyes Deaths interposing Dance Dissolves to darkenesse in a moments space Ruines proud Pompe makes pale th'aluing Face Sparkling in Beanty deads the hot desire Of Naked Brests Death tames Lusts raging fire Wounds without dread or dalliance Death will strike Sou'raignes and subjects all are to him alike To Rich and Poore those that doe ill or well Death is the Path either to Heav'n or Hell Deaths dread appearance evermore makes glad The good but proves a terrour to the bad Disjoynts the ablest limbs Death trembles Pride Extincts State-Glories will not be denide Death is an Archer Man the Marke to shoot at Fly where thou wilt East West this way or that Death followes like a shaddow shoot he will Drawes sure and home Death never failes to kill And yet none truely mindes it though we know Time shall decay we cannot feede nor goe Nor promise life a Minute men passe to bed But ignorant are to rise alive or dead Death by a thousand accidents do's meet Health Wealth and Beauty stabs 'em in the street He that least dreames of death some falling Tyle Timber or Stone doth suddenly beguile Him of his life yea oft when Man refraines And seekes to shunne it dashes out his braines This learnes us Mortalls during vitall breath With humble soule to meditate on Death The thought of Death aright prevents the evill Of Hells Night Theife the worlds Noone-day Devill Death's deepe remembr'ance rightly understood Strikes dead delights lures the lewd mind to good Wafts the sinne weary soule to thinke upon Her ill past life present affliction O sinne-sicke-sinfull Man feare to doe ill Tremble proud Heart crosse not thy Makers will Thinke on thy end thinke on the Day of Doome The paines of Hell Deaths-Masqueing Night wil come Not in the Pompe of Princely merriment But the dread fall of soules impenitent Ingratefull Soules to God soules that dare sit I' th scorners seate trusting to wicked wit More then their Makers wisedome their conceit Aimes not at Heav'n but to be worldly great Pride is their zeale theie Prayers forgetfulnesse Charity Contempt their Vivtue wantonnesse Plump high fed Pamper'd Flesh on whom must waite Page Pander Parasite preparation state Gold glitt'ring glory cost curious diet Insatiate pleasure and vaineglorious Riot These are the sinnes that merit endlesse shame Hells ever burning never dying flame Which to prevent Great God let hate to vice Dissolve sinnes Cloud Becho to Paradice Our Saviours sweetnesse let us never more Lie downe to our dishonour like a whore Dead to good Counsell never let darke deedes Defile the soule let 's roote up all the seeds Of Pride Lust Envie Hatred and in place Plant Wisedome meeke Humility and Grace Abhorre to study State with greater zeale Then zeale to Heav'n or the soules-common-weale True Penitence gaines Heav'n throwes sinners downe To raise them up to an Immortall Crowne Cogita de fine infinito ut vives in infinitum FINIS
requite Crowne his faire soule with comforts infinite Is it not fit then we our sinnes bewaile Thinke still on Heav'n on Heav'n that ne'r did faile The penitent soule when alas distrest Naked forlorne when most of all opprest Then sends reliefe miraculous reliefes Such is the love of Heav'n Heav'n cures all griefes As for Tymes Wolfe-turn'd ill-affected great-ones Close-fisted to the poore deafe to their groanes The Villaines of this Age that make profession Of a pure life yet live by base oppression Hell shall confound their soules that Den of Horrour Circl'd with blacke affright blew-burning terrour Shall boyle their soules and bodies to th'black-sweat Of an infernall poyson and that eate Still to renue new paines plagues that excell Such are the never-dying paines of hell There painted Pride lives crown'd in flaming fire Tymes glorious strumpet whipt with burning wiere Fed is the Lust-provoking Letcher there With scorching coales such as delight to sweare Swallow the Drunkards ever scalding oyle There Vsuters in Pooles of sulphure boyle Murther Rape Incest endlesse torments feele The Rack of vengeance and the burning wheele Whirl'd round in blew flames soule-amazing feare More thignes then tongue can tell the damned beare In burning beds of steele soules blazing fry Tortur'd with torments such as never dye Cursing the Time of their abus'd Creation Parents Fate sinne and their owne damnation Better O better never to be borne Then with such Terrour-striking torments torne Which â—o 〈◊〉 weepe wormes of Earth repent Weepe weepe for sinne soule-killing sinnes prevent Seeke heav'n shun Hell fly from the worlds intice Heav'ns the reward of Vertue Hell of Vice Perfect repentance makes men bravely die That liv'd not so fly then Hell's miserie Repent or damne for sinne weepe and weepe well Soules that doe flout at teares shall fry in hell The Devill sets his baits in ev'ry Angle No Corner's free from him soules to entangle Therefore in Vertues Path strive to excell Let firme faith still repulse the Fiend of hell Divines may preach else till their heart-strings burst The height of sinne will mount live still accurst Vbi peccatum ibi Procella Mans Miserie MAns life is like a Watch whose Time if still It Minnits right distemper'd by no ill It is a rare Peece then but oft we see It runnes too fast in Action t is too free Sometimes by wilfull providence set backe Sometimes by dull neglect it goes too slacke Beates like a dying panting pulse so slow That by and by it stands and then we know T is downe some curious wheele is much amisse Or some sprynge broke whereby the whole frame is So farre pastrectifying that it can Never goe right but like disorder'd Man Mis-spending pretious time in godlesse riot Time barrs of Heav'n Angells immortall dyet Youth is a hot unbridled willfull folly Picke me out one that 's Vertuous truly holy In this abused life and you shall finde Infinite thousands of a Vicious minde Age Palsey-strucke ready for deaths darke grave Insensible of sinne it all would have That shew of profit brings though ill got gaine And threatning heaven in thunder speake refraine Bad precepts t' will not do Truth tells us still Age proves Youth's scorne through examples ill Vice leades the silver yeares to endlesse blame Vaine unstay'd youth to beggery and shame 'T is Heav'ns just punishment an ill lewd life In Young and old meets with eternall strife Thinke then on thy Creatour wretched man Remember what thou art thy life a span A weake thinne thread spun from the downy wooll Of tender children to the Aged skull From youths rich Scarlet die Beauties full force To the silver Tinsell snow of a cold Course Man is an Actor and the world the Stage Where some doe laugh some weepe some sing some rage All in their Parts during the Stene of breath Act follies scourg'd by the Tragodian death Such is the Fate of soules ensnar'd within Satans command beware the twigg of sinne Least touch will take thee Pris'ner Hellish guiles Prove like the perilous paths of Crocodiles That with a slimie Tongue lick't o're prepares To murther Mortalls such is Satans snare O why should Mortalls wish long life to live What comfort what true joy do's this life give Ther 's nothing not one thought that do's us good But it is strangl'd straight by flesh and blood The longer life the more we sinne and fall From bad to worse from worse to worst of all Life loving fortunes how ye puffe men up To hugg their follie drinke damnations Cup O that men were farre wiser would but thinke How swell'd with pride they desperately wincke At their owne venom Vices and yet storme At others faults good heav'n this sinnereturne Or we shall perish praying for our foes Is of small use this causes all our woes Rejoyce at no mans fall with foule aspersion Although thy foe but pray for his conversion So piety wills still imitate the best Not worst of men he that lives well dies blest Observe what Holy Rritprompts thee to act Pray for thy foes 't is a most pious fact If then thine enemie persist in ire Heav'n on his head in flames heapes coales of fire The cause that on our heads just vengance drawes Springs from our selves we breake Gods sacred Lawes Yet never minde it complaints and daily cryes Are much among us still but no weteyes For crying sinnes daggers of discontent Stab home where carelesse people ne'r repent Nothing more dang'rous nor hath ever been Then to live still i' th' Lethargie of sinne The clouded fight permits us not to Eie Our owne foule faults nor the Flint heart to spie It 's rockie substance many have no sense No feeling of their sinnes large conscience Remove the cause betimes let thou and I Ev'ry one strive offend not with thine eye Fly from the tongues abuse thy hard hearts terrour Or live sinnes Slave lost in a mist of errour Sinnes Jnfirmitie THe Sinne of Mans infirmitie is knowne Best by the consequence sad sorrowes groane It leaves behind it such a sting within The Soule that miserable Man for sinne Snar'd with temptations in this worlds wide Hall Can never be at rest but grieve and fall Out to the Death with his abhord condition The guilt of Conscience and the base fruition Of his besotted sence he takes no pleasure In the worlds wealth weighing Gods deepe displeasure Still against sinne he never is at quiet At Home abroad in bed or at his diet There is no health in 's flesh no rest in 's bones Sinne stifles sence all mirth converts to moanes Each comfort proves disconsolate within That soule which really is griev'd for sinne Deepe swelling sighes like breaking Seas discover Heart breaking groanes one griefe upon another Sinne like incessant stormes beats on the breast Of Mans afflicted soule never at rest 'Till he has made his peace with Heav'n by so und And serious humble reconcilement drownd In streaming teares such teares as best expresse For
a Maze of sinne That 't is as farre unlikely for me worme Ere to winde out as for to raise a storme Or slacke a Tempest works of wonder stand Farre from thereach of mortalls weake command None but the hand of God his speciall grace Can pull me forth the dungeon of disgrace And shall I then in impious waies uneven Offend so good a God defend me Heav'n Ride thou my soule upon some winged cloud To'th'Haven of heaven fly to the sacred shroud Of sempeternall safety fly the sight Of blasing beautie flaring Earths delight Malicious mindes mischievous mans invention Faire lookes false hearts stampt in a soule intention Take flight my Soule fly from the dismall Den Of this darke Age the impiousnesse of men Fly from the pond'rous plummets of blacke Vice Which pulls to Hell helpe Prince of Paradise I saint I die sinne loades my soule with horrour The World the flesh and Divell all with terrour Hangs on my fetter'd limbes Prisoner to care I live sterv'd tortur'd tempted to despaire What shall I doe where whither shall I fly Here there I know not where lie downe and dye Vp soule to Heav'n there get a glorious Crowne I am too weake too vile sinne pulls me downe O my unworthynesse my shame my sinne When shall I shake thee off when when begin No wil 't not bee can I not doe the good I would must I be rul'd by flesh and blood Weepe weepe poore soule dissolve hard heart of flint Melt melt thou stony Rock teares never stint Drop Marble mount drop to a Crimson flood Sinke my sinnes in seas of penitent blood While others carelesse of celestiall health Greedie like Hell hunger for worldly wealth Preferment pride and vainely put their trust In the forbidden Pathes of tempting lust In glassie glory subtile Court behaviour In valour conquest and monarchall favour Whiles soules thus erre O thou the Lord of light Make me Heavens Champion vertues favorite Come folded Armes and you sad eyes sad heart Come soule opprest with sorrow play thy part Haste to some gloomy Grave there all alone On the greene mantled earth sigh sobbe and groane Spend precious time with sacted thoughts that beâ—â—es Heav'n in their eyes true verieâ— in their â—eares Complaine I will to Fortune not that whoâ—â— Which makes 〈◊〉 Art and pale fac'd Wisedome pooâ—â— I l'e not complaine to her but to that Ens Almighty Fortune in divinest sense Groveling on Earth for sinne I 'le cast forth groanes Sighes shall convert to Teares teares into moanes Then will I start from ground my body raise Shoote ine eyes upward against heav'n I 'le gaze Thinke on my God my God whose sacred will I have abus'd my God most just to kill Damme soule and body my rememb rance blot Out of the booke of life I that forgot In midst of all vaine joyes in temp'rate health Soule-snaring Chamb'rings lascivious stealth All-seeing Heav'n a God so greate so good The death of Iesus Christ my saviours blood Slave that I am where shall I turne mine eye Vnworthie to looke up Heav'n heare my cry Heare me Eternall Essente which hath made My soule to pray send me thy sacred aide On the bright Sun-beames of thy sweet salvation 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 draw up the dew of my devotion Mount soule upon the wings of Charity Helpe Heav'n up heart fly to Eternity Rowze like a towring Falkon in despight Of Hell and furies fly to the Makers sight Come come Lord Iesus O come thou and give Helpe to my helplessesoule I that doe live Like the distressed bird trapt in a snare Caught by a lime-twigg flying through the Aire In which distresse for comforts sweet releife Poore Innocent with wings adds woe to griefe So fares my soule striving sinnes snare to fly Trapt by deceit lives snar'd in misery My trembling conscience tells me I have beene A very fearefull finner slave to finne Of all Men most unworthy of Salvation My sinnes deserve Heavn'ns wrath hell and damnation Yet mercie mercy Lord mercy I crave Shield my sad soule from the infernall grave Strangle my growing sinnes in their beginning Demollish Lord in me custome in sinning Draw from mine eyes the vaine worlds vaine intice And ravish me with love of Paradice Busie my thoughts with vertue make me trie To live by honest meanes or let me die Pardon all idle prate sinnes rotten talke Let not my steps treade that accursed walke Which leads to lewdnesse base delights in pleasure Desire of Pompe vaine glory tottering treasure Let not my wandring eyes flame in the fire Of lust-stung lookes nor let the loose desire Of Beauties Bravery burne out mine eyes With senselesse gazing Lord make me to despise All wanton waies finnes of ill govern'd youth All wicked customes ' gainst thy sacred Truth Make me my God in hate to impure lives Kicke at that life which life of heav'n deprives Deale not Lord deale not with me as my merit Truely deserves drive out that uggly spirit Of all uncleannesse from my filthy flesh My drooping soule with sanctitie refresh Shrow'd me beneath thy sacred Countenance Give me thy servant Davids repentance The Faith of Abraham holy Jacobs strife Blest Stephens Charity chaste Iosephs life The Patience of Iob Pauls purity And soule-afflicted Peters weeping Eye With holy Teares Lord make me to reject The Sinne I impious sinner most affect O thou the King of those Eternall fires That spangles Heav'n good God grant my desires Infuse in me thy Grace or I shall stray And so become a fearefull Cast-away I that am poore weake feeble and too apt By the worlds whorish wales to be intrapt Beseech thy pardon forgive my coldnesse In serving thee pardon that damned boldnesse Let Mercy every Evening which does keepe Me from day-dangers death-resembling sleepe Be to my soule a Prayer booke to imprint Teares in mine Eyes griefe in my heart of flint Be it so Mighty Maker unto mee To me and every one make us to see And shunne sinnes custome with thy sacred wings Guard us from dangers blessed King of Kings Thou art my onely comfort in distresse Foode rayment all my cure in heavinesse My true Physitian in unruly madnesse Soule-ravishing Musicke in my deepest sadnesse When all the world forsakes me God is kind He comfort gives to my disconsolate mind O thou the Lord of Thunder Heav'n and Earth Mercifull maker thou that didst give me breath Thou that can'st muster Angells in the Skie To safeguard soules from blacke impiety Thou that dost feede and cloath and still persever To give me health be mercifull for ever Lord teach me for to prize the world at naught Vpon thy blessednesse be all my thought Take from mine eyes the vaine worlds vaine entice And rayishme with love of Paradise Blesse me each Morne and blesse me ev'ry Ev'n Blesse Wife and Children bring us all to Heav'n In thy good time and during lifes short space Grant us Lord Iesus thy abundant grace Graft thy Grace inardly in our hearts that
Rockes of ruine there Pyrates lie in chase In ev'ry corner mischeifes hour'ly lurke Pride fights against us like a furious Turke Lust like a Trech'rous Spaniard murd'ring French Like an infected poysons loathsome stench Gluttonie like a Germane drunkennesse Like a Dutch-dun-ker-ker whose impiousnesse Stiles him the Master Gunner to give fire To all Sinnes blacke Artillery hells Ire Infernall Chaine-short All Soule murd'ring strife To snke mans weather-beaten ship of life Which to gaine grace no sooner weighes Anchor Sets faile for safety but straight Sinnes canker The devouring Devill Pyrate for Hell Chasing flyes after and with blacke Arts spell Commands to stay sometimes with beautions formes With songs of Syrens sometimes sometimes stormes Such pitchy Tempests to benight the way As if the horrour of the Latter day Frighted the world so stops the soule from bliffe Shoots through and through her so she steares amisse Then as in bloudy Sea-fights men may see Times sacrifice to valour no man free From desperate danger every one maintaines The terrour of the fight though with their braines Dasht in each others face vitall breath Lost in a Fighting flame bloud and death Ballets and Batteries covers the ship all ore Her dismall Decks with horror purple gore And scatter'd limbes O the sad shreeke the cries Here sinckes a Ship and there another fries In fiery flames some to scape present harme Mount the Maine-Top some hang on the Yard-Arme 'Till the pitcht Mast becomes a blazing Torch Whos 's up flying flame when it beginnes to scortch Downe downe the poore Soules drop who life to save Vnwilling willingly make the Sea their Grave The deepes their Tombes so the soules Pinnace In her spirituall fight sinne dos deface Murders our best of thoughts like raging seas Windes Stormes Tempests drive us where they please The poore afflicted soule Satan so blinds It knowes not where she is by whizing winds Now-tost toth ' top of all the Azure skie Now tumbling as to Hell with frighted Bye Her Flag of sinnes desiance Tempests rent Her sayles torne all to raggs her maine mast spent All out of order tossing too and fro The soule distrest knowes not not which way to goe With gentle calme checke Sathans blacke storme Lord We shipwracke else Devills will come abord Burne with hells Wildfire flame ruine raze Blot our soules hope helpe minister of grace Safetie's in Heav'n in this uncertaine life Nothing but Hell-bred Quicksands warre and strife Soule killing vapours worldly vanites Thicke clouds of Vice perpetuall miseries There is a Voyage to the holy land In which the Truth our blessed Card must stand The Holy Ghost our Pilote to Direct The Steerage of our Course from sinnes neglect To th' Haven of Heav'n that happie Port of rest Salvation's guard true Cape of comfort blest There Heav'ns bright Majestie our Saviour sweet Sits with the hand of mercy for to greet And waft us to him O may all that stray Sayling along the Coast of sorrow pray Pray unto him he 'le guide their wand'ring Barke Tempest-tost hontely in the dreadfull darke If thou be Sea-sick call upon him and he Shall soone with healths sweet solace comfort thee Rebuke the raging winds Times blackest stormes And to a Calme skie-swelling seas reforme No Rocks Gulfes Sands nor seas-cloud-kissing waves Sinnes dreadfull Sea-fights nor the desperate braves Of Pyrates none shall hurt let then thy care See thy weake Vessell rigg'd well Mann'd with prayer And then Launch forth hoist sailes and when you spie The Cape of good hope keepe it in thine eye Let Holy thoughts deatht-breatning stormers ore'come That whatsoever chance there shall become The vessell of thy body being foule Make sure to save the Passenger thy soule He valiant onely vertuous is that can Subdue his sinnes He 's the true Noble man Ther 's perfect valour he true glory winnes Hee 's the true souldier that subdues his sinnes Breaks through the Pikes of sinne all Fiends that are In Hell or divells ruling in the ayre Forceing his way to Heav'n despight all charmes Enchantments dead sleepes all soule-slaying harmes Wrestling like Iacob constant in his sight Mindfull of his Majesticke-Makers sight To such belongs the Everlasting Crowne Of Sempeternall glory true renowne Which to prepare thee for cease to neglect Th' Almighties sacred service let respect Feare and true reverence to his pretious word Be to thy Soule Truths Helmet shield and sword Fit to subdue the Fiend all fiery Darts Furies and fiends Heav'n arme thy noble parts Soule Body Heart and all strive to fulfill The Majestie of Heav'n his divine will And like the cunning curious Architect Earnest some goodly building to erect Breaking his steepe wholy imployes his mind On the drawne modell which when he dos find Exact his eye dwells ever then upon it And his affection never driven from it So when to thought we call our Saviours bloud That sempeternall Platforme of all good Shed for our sinnes let it for ever dwell In the Idaea of our minds so Hell Sterne Death nor deadly desp'rate discontent Can barre the heav'nly heart from 's true content Gods Vengeance against sinne his true dislike Me thinkes should move us to repent and strike A terrour to our soules force us to see Man's outward danger inward miserie Which like an unresisted roaring Tide Runnes through our veines apts the base bloud to pride To all the sinnes that are or ever were O horid ill have we not cause to feare To quake and tremble when our dull dead eyes Drunke with the poyson'd dreggs of sinne ne'r spies The mischeivous perills and the blacke affright That hourely wait on the spirituall fight Fiends live at Sea and Furies on the land Gluttony for a Corporall dos stand Avarice a Pioner Sloth you 'l spie An idle Gentleman of a Companie Wraths the Serjeant Envie the Colours gaine Lust the Lievtenant is Pride the Captaine These in the hearts of ev'ry one takes place Where Cowardly Soules shuns the blest meanes of grace Let us for ever then desist from evill Wisedome commands us to desie the Devill To combate with our sinnes oppose temptation Fight against Hell the Devill and damnation This for a Caveat take strive to live well Ingratitude to God findes flames in Hell While grace is offer'd then watch fast and pray Ther 's no prevention in the latter day None lives secure that to his Vice lives friend A Vicious life oft makes a Vicious end Strengthen me my Creator make me fight Thy holy battell let not the worlds delight Disswade my soule sweet Iesus for thy merit Enable me rowze my dejected spirit Vncharme Hells charme O sacred God untie My fetter'd soule let me not ever lie Lull'd in the lazie lan of deadly sinne This Minute Sacred Saviour now beginue To give release and as thou didst provide Army of Angells for Eliahs guide Who to secure him girt with Enemies Mounted his soule from worldly vanities So Heav'nly Day-star blessed Jesus end This my designe thy
mischeife malice and much hate But is all excellent sweetnesse noble pitty Faire Honours soule cloath'd in humility What Eye on Earth sheads for his sinne a teare What Eare delights Heav'ns Holy Word to heare What Tongue triumphs to speake in Almighti's praise What Heart affected stands to holy waies Wer 't not for Charity she is the Queene In whom all Graces of the soule are seene Prophesies shall faile Tongues cease knowledge vanish But Charity never she from soules can banish Lust Averices and Pride with all the Rabble Of sinnes which make Men truely miserable O when we want the gift of Charitie We all are subject to impletie The Devill laies his stumbling blocks within Our waies of wickednesse our daies of sinne Lures us to strumpets such as Sampson tride To mighty Nabuchadnezers swolne pride Like Acban and Gâ—bezi daily He Tempes Man to covetuous Idolatrie Snares soules to Envie like accursed Caine To Herods Selfe-love Nabals churlishvaine Sinne heapt on sinne all those blacke soules to stifle That thinke Adult'rie sweet true love a trifle If rich Heav'n wills us from our plenteons store To yeeld Truths cherefull succour to the poore And that by sundry Statutes God commands Vpon the forfeiture of life and Lands Confirming still the poore man to have part In the Rich man's Estate if any heart Dares doubt this Truth the Scripture must denie None but an ATheist wrongs that pietie What a large extreâ—me folly 't is to see Man like the Wolfe for prey how earnestly He hunts for meanes as if the onely honie Of soule and body did consist in monle Meate drinke and cloathes Men sicke still pray for health Readie to be undone for paltry wealth Freedome and safety and with shamelesse faces Forget to begg of God spirituall Graces Many men pray but he the glory winnes That prayes to be disburthen'd of his sinnes And viewes the poore Mans labour with the eye Of sweetreliefe ther 's noble Chatitie The heart of such a man may sometimes shrinke Vnder temptations weight but never finke God makes man here Lord steward of that store He deales so chearefully among the poore Gives him the Grace to thinke when to his fight Apoore wretch comes to begge of him a mite He might have beene that begger his estate Transferr'd on him and begging at his gate Or in the streete in Ragges opprest with griefe Glad to beseech him for some poore reliefe Wealth 's the worlds Witch desir'd of most all know it Yet I have read wise Codrus a poore Poet And his Wife Procula they knew it was Farre greater happinesse their dayes to passo After long life unto aquiet end Then change their poorenesse proudly to ascend King Ninus Throne be wonder'd at and seene T' out shine Semyramis wealths wicked Queene Thus Heathens learne us Christians what to doe Greedy desire of wealth workes endlesse woe As wise Vlysses serv'd his Syren Witches Passe-by the worlds pelfe seeke celestiall Riches Be rich or poore unlesse a beast thou be Seeke Heav'nly wealth or ne're looke heav'n to see Man backward goes takes all the care he can Not to be godly first but a rich man Takes care for health long life Physicks the blood But last of all least care to become good Cleane opposite to the faire rule of Truth Truth instructs crooked Age and stiffe-neckt youth First to seeke Godlinesse Riches and health Will follow next godlinesse is great wealth What though the world frowne must we straight repine Has not Heav'n sent us reason to desine Twixt good and evill ought not thou and I Ev'ry one strive to live contentedly With our estates certaine it should be so Did not sinne blind us did we but truly know That which the world so scoffes at Poverty God onely sends to trie our honestie Or dishonestie poverty is sent For Vertues triall Vices punishment He that in peace enjoyes the quiet calmes Of flourishing plenty yet gives no Almes But like insatiate Hell greedy of more Belies his wealthy state to rob the poore Of their just Intrest disabling himselfe Base miser like to save his dirty pelfe Such falshood cries for flaming vengeance still To persecute a Wretch so vile so ill 'T is not the Rich not Poore can pleade excuse Where want of Charity speakes Man's abuse Dost thou want â—â—â—es to give Truth is thy friend Truth at all times instructs thee to extend ' Thy Almes in lib'rall manner not to pine In parting with thy pence for love divine Admitt thou art unable to disburse Least pecce of Coine yet let thy emptypurse Be full exprest in a Compassionate groane A sigh a prayer for him that makes his moane And in the Holy Name of the most High Beggs some reliefe to succour penurie God ever stands more on the givers mind Then the gift given if God but truely find A cup of water in his sacred name Given to the poore God gratifies the same The Widdowes Mite one Farthing pleased more The Lord of Heav'n then all the Rich Man's store There is no Vertue Constant without love Nor no love perfect but from Heav'ns above Witnesse Truths sacred Text Heav'ns love to Man Amply exprest in the poore Publican His humble Eyes sighes cries and bruised breast Forc'd ope the Gates of Mercy gave him rest With Spittle Clay least word that did proceed From Mercies never failing Master freed The Blind the Lame the Sicke the Dead from grave Heav'ns All-Commanding Maker all can save O let us then in holy love betake us To Christian Charity Now good God make us Gratiously willing for thy owne sweet sake That suffer'd on the Crosse made hell to quake Fashion our wills to thine Lord make us know It is our sinnes our sinnes makes God our Foe Vbi Charitas non est Caritas VERTVES PYRAMID Blest Blest O Blest Be that Divinity Three Sacred Persons GOD in Vnitie WHOSE glorious Ravishing Resurrection Restor'd us lost to Grace Oh PERFCTION Purifie thou my Soule my Heart my Minde Snatch me from Earth to Heav'n make me inclin'd Wholly to Thee All worldly Pompe despising Fixe my THOVGHTS ever On thy Blessed RISING Give MEE A Sempeternall Reverence To Thy All-glorious high Omnipotence I that am clog'd with sin and wretchednesse Desp'rate thoughts hunting after Worldlinesse Thy blest Protection crave cleare the great score Of all my foule misdeeds that I no more so great a sinner proove Lord let my strife Against my sinnes Raise mee from Death to life And from the Foote of uggly sinnes disgrace Mount mount my SOVLE to th'Pyramid of GRACE Chastitie and Lust LEwd speech strikes blushes in a Virgins face Chastity is ever the Zeale of grace â—taffe of Devotion Enemy to Lust In death true comfort the Marke of the Just Sister of Angells and the Virgin Tie Which cleaves to God gaines sweete Eternity When Lust with all her paint Curles purles pride Swelling in pompe is but a nastie Hide A most infectious foe foe to the Purse Foe to the Person
the Iesuites dive'lish disposition The nature of the Beast his true condition He that can temporize by booke maintaine To serve his ends and glut his God-lesse gaine Be what he least seemes cold in devotion Envious at one anothers Promotion Not lowly minded but proud Ambitious In tongue a Saint in heart a slave vicious Preach divine patience when himselfe shall be The waspish Image of all Tyrannie Spleenative choll'ricke and who so offends Is so farre off from ever being friends All-bee't he seeme a Calme yet if he live Hee 'll be reveng'd be sure ne'r to forgive Such is the Iesuite such his double Face And such his charitable signe of Grace He that dares awe his Countrey King and State Smile and yet be a villaine all men hate Set Princes at debate befoole the times Poyson the world with irreligious Crymes Swell Battles Murthers make whole Kingdomes shake Shed Innocent bloud all for Religions sake To defend Religion what Religion 's this To seeme devoute and doe so much amisse Colour Religion with meere gullerie Wrest sacred Text to maintaine Roguerie As if Religion were a formall Law Religion onely to keepe fooles in awe Defend Controversies woe to those dayes Woe to such Serpent-snarling Church-Mens wayes Sinne ne'r triumphes strikes a more fatall stroake Then when 't is cove'rd with Religions Cloake That Iesuite he who speakes divinely faire Yet hath a wicked life I may compare To fire stand off doe not come too neare it You then may safely warme neede not feare it But if thou unadvisedly presume Approach too nigh thee it will burne consume So the deceitfull Priest come not neare him Shun his acquaintance you neede not feare him Flie his dissembling sight his blacke life spurne If lodg'd within your bosome he will burne With shew of holinesse burne and scorch Waste thee in thy Estate like a spent Tortch Ther 's not a Gentleman of meanes do's die But with his Heire the Jesuite presently Shares in his land with shew of Reverence Winning of Soules covers concupiscence Commits with all he like any Mans wife Makes her beleeve 't is to preserve his life Perswading Letch'rie with their Ghostly Father No sinne but a deede of charity rather Sad-sicknesse to prevent to scowre the veines To mundifie and for to purge the Reines Ergo plena Charitatis An Act Of meere Commiseration such a Fact As to denie it were a damned sinne Pulls curse on curse which hath for ever binne Iustly inflicted punishing all those Repugnant Natures with the worst of woes Dispaire assur'd confusion dismall horrour Sudden destruction Death infernall terrour Hell and the Devill for that high offence Of Stubborne refusall disobedience A sinne impossible to be forgiv'n Such is the Iesuites charge of purpose giv'n To please his Lust makes that a gainefull trade Lies with this Lady and that Chamber-Maide Here gives a Pardon there denounceth Curses So betwixt both sure to picke all their Purses The Nimble Slaves Church-knaverie can strip And fetch your greatest Lady o're the hip With a religious show ' put tricks upon her Rob the beleeving Foole first of her honour Then pardon Sinne and then he may enthrall Rob her of Coyne Plate Iewels Smocke and all Doe and undoe Her Charity 's soone drawne For baudie Iesuites her best Smocke to pawne Their thread of Doctrine'mong women spun Is to whore all be she the chastest Nun If she denie to yeeld Murther and Rape Shall Wolfe-like seize that prey there 's no escape Such is the Murd'ring Minde of him we call Natures Monster Priest Iesuiticall Noli gloriari quod lingua bene dicis Si vita male dicis THE DEVILL SEarch all the Earth you ev'ry where shall see Satan most busie from the Church not free The very Pulpit haunts and being vext Seekes how to put the Preacher from his Text. Such as teach others yet themselves neglect And with sinnes Cassocke hide their owne defect From Pew to Pew unseene Hell's Fiend do's creepe To dull the Hearers Eares Ioggs some asleepe Some to vaine prattle others still to prie With wanton lookes for a bewitching Eye Some greedily imployes to spie out fashions To glut the humours of proud womens passions Makes muddie Mortalls at each other looke More then on Heav'n or Gods all Sacred Booke And such is Satans craft continuall motion To draw mankind from heav'n and all devotion Tempts some to Hate Ambition some to slide The sliprie sleights of Pompe unpai'd for pride Others to swimme the Sea Lust pleasing vice Some wet damnation most men Avarice Servants to Satan Satan which do's strive Man of all heav'nly solace to deprive God for our sinnes no sooner ang'ry growes But straight the roaring sudden Devill throwes His Pawes on us and like himselfe beginnes For numbers numberlesse of desperate sinnes To seize the soule made an eternall prey To burne in Hell as Heav'ns just cast away Such is the Fate of soules ensnar'd within Satans command beware the Twigge of sinne Least touch will take the Pris'ner Hellish guiles Prove like the perilous paths of Crocodiles Who with their slimie tongues lickt or'c prepare To murther Mortals by a slip'rie snare Man is a Tree whose root is certaine evill Bad deeds the Body yeelding to the Devill The Armes ten proud aspiring discontents Breakers of all the ten Commandements The Branches are our pronenesse unto ill The Leafes Pleasure the faire fruit sinne which still With sweetest show of sweetnesse tempts us on To feed and follow our destruction There is feare above us feare still beneath us Feare round about and yet no feare within us Satan like Dalilah suffers not men For to see danger is' t not fitting then By holy violence we seize the sword Of th' Omnipotents Omnipotent word To slaughter sinne in us O shall not we That professe Sacred Christianitie Conquer our crymes thinke on the life to come The rising of the dead the Day of Doome That dreadfull day let us then never winke At our base follies never forget to thinke When this vast Orbe of Earth shall blasing burne And all the world in Funerall flames shall mourne Then Heav'n and Hell amazing must appeare In two extremes Ioy and excessive feare Heav'n in bright shining All-Eternall Light Hell in the Horrour of perpetuall Night Heav'n shall triumph Hell tremble Angells sing Gloria in Excelsis to Heav'ns high King The King of Heav'n Heav'n joyes perfect solace All-Ravishing glit'ring glist'ring Palace Pleasures Paradise immortall dwelling All-pure excellent past thought excelling Heav'ns Pavement are the Starrs in what excesse Shines Heav'n when star-pav'd with Starrs numberlesse No thought of want which mads the thoughts of men But plenties fulnesse full abound in Heav'n There Virgin Chastity in life opprest Glitters in Saint-like Glory lives most blest The poore Man tost from wrong to injurie In Heav'n finds comfort firme felicitie The wronged Widdow injur'd fatherlesse Bright Heav'n relieves gives all their woes redresse He that for ill do's good Heav'n will
wee Never like straying sheepe stray Lord from thee Heare me Miraculous Majestie and give A period to my cares let me not live Frustrate of Honest meanes O send redresse Imploy my Pen keepe me from Idlenesse From all ill Company all waies unjust Sinne Satan and the Labyrinth of lust Like Ioseph Mighty Maker make me fly The tempting Bates of Beauties bravery Suffer me Worme unworthy not in vaine To call on thee let me some solace gaine Or kneele for ever happie man were I To kneele and pray and at my Prayers die To live for ever ever more to sing Glory to thee O God Heavens glorious King O you that stand on Pinacles of state Let not the World deceive you lest too late From off your slipprie height you come in thrall To pash your selves in pecces past recall Sell not faire Lordships to keepe Ladiships Nor sucke damnation from a Strumpets lips Touch not those spells of Sparta let 'em rot When Vertue lives in man lust is forgot One onely Iemme that 's all the store I have Great of that little nothing which shall crave Of Heav'ns great Ens not for my selfe alone But for thee Reader thee and every one Rarenesse of rare example and withall An everlasting skie of Grace to fall Vpon our Warre on Earth desiring Heav'n For waies on Earth are crooked all unev'n O Heav'nly Father glorious Diety Pardon O Pardon my impiety I that have imperfections on my head Past Starres in number or those sands that spread The Vast Seas bottome shall not I confesse How oft ' gainst God I desp'rately transgresse Put off Repentance still from day to day Abuse his mighty Patience still delay His dread Command and like a sencelesse sot Vnmindfull of his mercies minde them not No sooner doe I finde a good thought take me But from that vertue flesh and bloud doe shake me Forgive me O forgive me thou that art Heav'ns universall searcher cure my heart At my dull follies I le no longer winke Sorrow shall be my Pen sad teares my Incke Misery my Paper whereon I 'le write The sorrowes of my soule my youthes delight My pathes of pleasure Prodigall expences My Scarlet Crimes and all my blacke offences This Booke I 'le dedicate unto my heart My heart chiefe Actor in sinnes Tragicke part My heart unprincely Revelling within My body that Banquetting house of sinne There Chain'd to ' th Magicke Musicke of free will Riots in poyson'd pleasure lewdly ill All that belongs to th'body ev'ry part My soule alone excepted serves my heart Best pleas'd and best at ease with pleasures bane Most glad to be most bad and in that vaine Traitor to Truth each limbe a Mortall foe To worke my universall overthrow O false false heart false to thy dearest freind Wound me no more for pittle make an end I pitty thy blacke life nor can forbeare For thee to shed many a bleeding teare Thou art my foe and yet to see thee feed Fat for Hells Shambles my poore soule dosbleed Bleeds inward indiscern'd of any eye Except my God and my owne misery What shall I doe faine would I shunne the sinne My frailty most delights to wander in And yet I cannot when I strive ' gainst vice To stand most firme I 'me tript up in a trice O What a mis'ry 't is to have a minde For to be truely honest well inclinde And not to be sufferd such is the state Of my sad bleeding soule unfortunate Field honour 's but a Vapour the sound brest Puts on Church-Armour Faith and sleights the rest In Love to Vertue and true godly feare Dwells Honour not in Dart Bowe Sling or Speare Not in vaine Beauty strength the pride of Wit Presuming Riches Learning Valour Credit High Birth Nobility nor gravitie Humanity nor yet Virginity But in the humblesoule whom holy storie Speaks to maintaine God and the Gospels glory The King and Kingdomes safety Churches peace The Virgins right Widdowes and fatherlesse These are the noble steps that ever waite On Vertues Court 't is the true Prop of state Save me O save me thou Eternall terrour To damned soules I doe confesse each errour The many thousand sinnes unseene unfelt Which long too long in my hard heart have dwelt To thee to thee thou everlasting being Of an Eternall Majestie all seeing With Penitent heart I come I call I cry Pittie me wretch helpe thou all viewing eye My armes are spread come sempeternall Essence Ravish my soule come blessed Penitence Give me thousand stabbs my soule has neede Of many thousand teares then let it bleede Pierce pierce my stubborne heart make that the Inne Of Grace which yet is but the house of sinne Looke downe soule saving sacred God of Truth Forgive th'infinite follies of my youth Shield me Divinity from Sathans ginnes Lord lay not to my charge my Parents sinnes Glory of goodnesse in thy mercy heare me Let hate Revenge nor Envie ne're come neare me Let neither Pride nor hope of gaine deceive me Nor pleasure nor the want of meanes bereave me Of sence lest sencelesse wholy I despaire And so become the wretched child of Care O sacred saviour give me grace to fly Delight in sinne I beg it earnestly In all my prayers enable me to be Blessed Lord Iesus pleasting unto thee Make me to doe thy will Lord make me grow Great in thy love thou that dost truely know Of all Earths blessings unto mortalls giv'n My sole desire on Earth is Grace from Heav'n Grace to be good grace to avoide hels ginnes And grace to grieve for nothing but my sinnes So shall thy mercy ne'r forgetfull stand While I have Tongue a Pen a head a hand The Soules Sea fight EMp'rour of Angells O thou King of Starrs Man's perfect solace ' gainst sinnes bloudy warres When I behold with contemplations Eye The silver spangles of the glorious skie Me thinks in that Blew-paper-booke of Heay a I see the waies of Mortalls all Vnev'n The wretched soule of Man in ev'ry place Lives Locally in hell Wanting thy grace Temptation on temptation past controule Alures the body to betray the soule Hells Blacke-Prince Troopes of spiries ev'ry day Invades Mans Sinne-seidg-Soule Furies display Infernall Banners while the Drum of death Beates a dead March and e're I can take breath Sounds shrill Alarums hot assaults beginne The soules fierce fight muffl'd in cloudy sinne I live beset Millions of spirits round Shoot at my soule 〈◊〉 stand on no firme ground But tread on Earth as on a Ball of ice I cannot stand nor stirre for sliprie vice My Soul 's a ship tost on the mountaine seas Of this vast world she never lives at ease Her Sailes are sighes her Anchor deepe despaire Her Compasse errour her sad Pilot care Farre off from safetyes shore floates on the waves Of fearefull billowes Soule-devouting graves Rough blustring stubborne stormes yeeld no reliefe On ev'ry shrowd each Tackling hangs a griefe Death like a darke cloud besets every place Here
holy Angell send To be my guide my guard my sacred spell ' Gainst all Enchantments Witchcraft Death and Hell So shall my Anthem ev'ry Morning be Glory of Heav'n pitty O pitty me Pitty me Wretch most wretched vilely base Wanting thy sacred aide spirituall grace The onely Cure sinnes raging flames to quentch Is Aqua Lacrymarum that will stench The wounds proud pomper'd Dames delight to make On the poore soule of man make him to quake Afeard to stand on that false Rocke of Ice Idlenesse feeder of foule Carnall Vice Blacke errours cloud South Fog which rotts the mind Leapours the soule and is that Northerne winde The cause of all sinnes stormes 't is dangers floud Sinnes-surging Ocean swelling in mans bloud O Soule alluring sinne me me forsake I charge thee hence by him that made Hell quake By that Almighty One in sacred Trine All holy spells and charmes Magicke divine Sister of Angells Virgins Chastitie By that Sovle saving sacred puritie Fly from me all base thoughts be just mine eyes And be your selves hate wantons witcheries The blessing of th' Almighty Lord of Hoast The Father the Sonne and the Holy Ghost Preserve be with me now and for ever when My soule is most distrest Amen Amen The Virgins Honour I As a Child that of it selfe can doe Nothing to sheild Virginity from woe Prostrate on bended Knees with teares I fall Before thee Lord O heare on thee I call Pittie me wretch I that am in the prime Heate of my youth and the most dang'rons tyme Of all my life beseech thy heavenly aide All holy helpes Lord pitty me weake Maide Lest like the filly fly about the Flame I scortch to Cinders burne out my good name Quench quench the flames of all lewd carnall Motions Inordinate desires all loose affections Never let my soule be led away good Lord By Wanton Company that no good afford Waking or sleeping O thou King of Kings Let the safe pearefull shaddow of thy wings Be my Eternall safetie lest the mines Of Golden Snares alter my chast designes By day and night Lord let thy gracious beames Disperse all wandring thoughts all idle dreames My Chastity is a more pretious Iewell Then I can keepe let me not then be cruell To my owne soule but by the more that I In the great danger of Temptation lie So much the greater let thy grace preserve My Virgin Honour and though I deserve Thy Vengeance indignation and no favour Yet for thy Mercies sake most sacred Saviour Be thou my Advocate Lord make me free To sue in ferma pauperis under thee Angelize thou my soule to shunne the Tract Of obscene speech lew'd thought and uncleane act To thee for ever make me reconcil'd In Body and Soule chast holy undefil'd And through the operation of thy grace To spit defiance in sinnes uggly face Pleasures are poysons to this soule of mine Ther 's no true joy on Earth but what 's divine What shall I doe helpe Prince of Paradise I cannot stand nor stirre for slip'ry Vice Quicken me Lord enable me to pray Humble my Minde my Parents to obey In all their just commands and at all times Patient to beare reproofes confesse my crimes Ne're let me Lord be so depriv'd of grace To scoffe like some their Parents to their face Make me in stead of stubborne waies to grieve 'em At their most need still able to relieve ' em Increase good Heav'n the number of their dayes To speake thy glory and to sing thy prayse And if thy will e're call me to the state Of honorable wedlocke let my Mate Be such a one good God with whom I may Serve thee in peace and never goe astray Ne're let contention nurs'd 'twixt Man and Wife Disturbe the Quiet of my married life Married or Single let me ever be Fitted with Prudence pleasing unto thee Make me to shunne great God sins dang'rous shelfe That I apoore Tree barren in my selfe May Bud and beare such fruits of Faith as may My soule emparadice at the Judgement day The Single and Marrid Life SOme say the single life is single care Yet sinne still Slaves it under Sathans snare Soule-burning Beauties-brav'ry witching folly Which mads th'intemprate Braine breeds melancholly Delight in dangrous Dice Drabs drinke and Riot Sinne Theife-like robs the single life of quiet Hinders the happie Soule from being wed ' To Vertues faire Chast Honest Humble bed O what a sacred sweetnesse had it beene Had our first Parents purity shunn'd sinne Marriage that Rich immaculate Robe of honour Hadne're beene tempted then to base dishonour Lust that do's hour'ly slave the single life And shunnes the sweets of Wedlock through base strife Had ne're beene thought on then all had gone well Soules ne're had cause to feare sinne death nor hell Mariage was made for Man 't is a true Text For honour not dishonour to be vext With deadly strife adultr'ate fornication Vnruly Lust sinne-causing-separation Hell to the Bed that 's chast turning the ease Of wholsome Marriage into a disease Wedlocks great weighty worke craves sound advice Begg'd at the hands of Heav'n lest cheating Vice Puts tricks on faire beleeving honesty To cloake Biggebellies prurient renery Marriage requires a solemne Meditation Trembling resolve no sudaine affectation Vnask't of Heavn'n the mari'd life must be Vnforc'd Religious faithfull chast and free Else like Jehorams Match t will prove a curse Bad the beginning but the end farre worse Learne wisedome by this Truth be zealous Vse holy Iobs preservative be Jealous Thou that art Married over all thy waies Beauties alurement Natur 's ill spent dayes Thy trouble about wealth greifeâ— long and large Care still to get Childrens continuall charge Losses by Servants sinnes infirmity Vnquietnesse of Neighbours all do cry And cry alow the married life to be Man's ent'rance into sad calamity The Married life I fitly may compare To Heav'n or Hell unto the Earth or Ayre 'T is Heav'n where harmelesse Turtle Mates agree But Dismall Hell where Couples faithlesse be Sweet like the dainty wholsome Ayre to sense Where Man and Wife content shunne rude offence But where deepe discord rules and proud disdaine There like the gaping Tongue-tide Eath for Raine Sun-burnt with sordid Actions deeds unjust They partch to Cinders fall away to dust T is sinnes just payment whose reward is death The misery of life and scourge of breath Wisedome directs the married life to be The peacefull Embleme of true Vnitie Heav'n gives a blessing makes that love divine Where Man and Wife content draw in a Line A Wife obeying of her Husbands will Ha's the rule over him deserves no ill Love is a worthy Wife Times precious woman Lust a perfidious Harlot true to no man There is no joy on Earth that can transcend A Husband and a Wife kind to the end The carefull Husband 's honest gaines no doubt Makes the Good-wife an honest layer out A Vertuous Wife free from all lewd expence Is the Husbands joy