joyes in thy faire Mistrefle eyes that like foolish Paris bowest to the Shrine of Venus whose happynesse and life lyes in thy Ladyes love remember the Peacock hath faire Feathers but foule feete the Bee hath Honey by her toyle but a sting in her tayle the finest Rose may have pricks at the stalke and the fairest Apple may bee rotten at the Core Nay though thy Lady may bee civill worthy and vertuous yet time may make her lascivious wanton and various the fairest Blossome may bee the soonest blasted and the sweetest Flower the quickliest withered the blustring Windes may swell the mightiest waves and a glorious Morne may turne a gloomy day The Philosophers say the life of man is nothing but opinion Alas thou doest but dreame fond Lover heere are no hallowed Groves no faire Elizium walkes no Palaces of pleasure no high borne Imps of honour no heads archt in Royalty no beauties deckt in glory But wanton Cupids morall blaze which is as a shining flash or a seeming fire hot in a minute and cold in a moment which will blast thee if thou behold it and burne thee if thou come too neare 〈…〉 will come when thou shall dread that which thou dost now adore and loath the thing thou now dost love e're long the stoutest heart shall bee faint and the fairest face begin to waxe pale then pleasantnesse shall turne peevishnesse and kindnesse to coldnesse plenty shall bee poverty and beauty deformity then shalt thou behold the rottennesse of youth when thou commest to the ripenesse of age and see the uncertainty of life when thou receivest the summons of death For all flesh is grasse and the glory of man but as the flower of grasse And thou fond muckworme that servest the gods of gold what needest thou labour for an Inheritance in earth Thou hast too surely earth already go labour for an Inheritance foole that will not faile thee lest either thy Riches flye from thee or thy Money perish with thee lest the rot take thy heart as the rust may eate thy gold lest thy possession bee made a desolation and instead of having a Treasure in Heaven thou purchase with thy Coyne an eternall Tombe in Hell And likewise thou yong man thy morning is but now risen and it promises to bee a Sunne-shine day and thou doest not dreame that all flesh is grasse and the glory of man but as the flower of grasse yet flatter not thy selfe too fairely though thou were not strangled in thy Nativity yet thou mayest bee cut off in thy maturity though thou wert not blowne away in the fondnesse of thy youth yet thou mayest bee cut off in the fullnesse of thine age therefore let this rectifie thy reason and purge thy pollution let it raise thy love and humble thy heart thou knowest thou shalt dye but thou canst not tell when thou art sure thou shalt fall but thou doest not know where Well walke so on earth that death may conduct thee into Heaven expect Death every where but feare it no where for when thy present tense shall bee made a preterimperfect tense as thou hast lived holily so shalt thou dye happily and raigne in immortall blessednesse in the Pallace of high glory Tell mee thou old man I thinke thou art acquainted well with our subject that all flesh is grasse and the glory of man but as the flower of grasse what pleasure hadst thou in those things whereof thou art now ashamed With much paine thou hast past thy pilgrimage and worne thy wearied dayes thy life has beene but a longer prologue to an eternall Tragedy Go look on the Monuments of the old World old man and see how those mighty sonnes of Annak sleepe in earth How death has given them their quâ—â—cus est In the house of darkenesse there is no striving for dignities nor purchasing of places An Army of Souldiers that are there cannot march in Battle Ray not in their Warlick Triumphs thunder about their Tombes The greatest Merchant when hee takes that house hee loses all the richest Usurer that was worth thousands heere if you go to him there hee has not a penny in his pocket but is as poore as hee was sometimes proud The wisest Lawyer and the eloquentest Oratour when they come there give over their practise and will plead no more the Lord is there but a Companion for his Lacky and the Judge on the Bench sleepes safe with the Prisoner at the Barre How dolefull mee thinkes is the alarum of yonder passing Bell ushering Deaths Language in every eare If it goes for an unprepared sinner the sound thereof strikes terrour the night grows horrible and every object showes his blacke actions Oh the Conscience of the lost sinner now how is hee hurryed Now for an houre of life but it will not bee Let the sinner see in all his Inventory what will hee prize or what can give one houre of ease None but Jesus Christ Alas but hee hath no share in him Unhappy soule how hast thou spent thy time and worne out thy pretious dayes Was it in love thou hast spent thy life Oh hadst thou beene acquainted with Heaven how mightest thou have beene swallowed in the Sea of love Tell mee who made the earth so full of variety the Sunne so glorious the Moone so beautious Who made the glittering Starres that aspire the Olympick Hill that the lower Orbes might bee relieved by the spangled spheres when the Sunne has done the day Say sinner must not hee that gives beauty to deformity bee himselfe much more lovely Or what was it profit thou hast laboured for what greater profit then to be a Prince or what higher happinesse then holinesse what greater riches then righteousnesse or what higher gaine then to weare an immortall Crowne Or was it pleasure thou hast sought after I thinke the pleasure of the world is paine remember how often thou hast called thy selfe Foole when thou hast been retired alone when thy fancy hath been wearied in folly and thy Recreation hath gone beyond thy Reason deluded soule what pleasure is like that which dwells in Paradice in those blest Groves which cannot bee described by the pen of the Writer nor exprest by the tongue of an Orator whose glory had any but the Art to paint forth in the language of love t would leave the writer in a Maze or strike the Reader dead But now poore soule in seeking the things that are but momentany thou hast lost thy selfe eternally who now can intercede before the immortall throne that the sinner may be saved none but Jesus Christ and alas the soule is not acquainted with him unhappy soule thou art now struck silent goe drowne thy closed eyes in Teares lye downe in dust forgotten earth for thou shalt rise no more till the Axeltrees of the world shall begin to flame and time shall breake his Charriot wheeles till the Heavens shall passe away with a great noyse and the world shal swelter in flames
his strength the Souldier of his valour the Schollar of his learning the Germane gloryes that hee can drinke Wine the Usurer sacrifices to the god of gold the Prodigall to his pleasure and the Lover to his Lady and of all the rest the last is the most deluded making his life laborious while hee is tyred with such unacquainted passions Her frownes or smiles give him an earnest of life or death hee spends his yeares in disquietnesse his moneths in frowardnesse the day in fancies the night in dreames hee tyres his passion corrupts his invention deludes his affection disturbes his rest cracks his braine wearies his bed and breaken his sleepe hee makes earth his heaven pleasure his paradise beauty his felicity and prosperity his glory Poore soule hee knows not that bravery is a vanity that beauty is a vision and love a delusion that as Syrens can inchant so Ladies can allure that extremity attends prodigallity and the greatest temptations the strongest affections that the comliest blossome is the soonest blasted and the sweetest Rose the quickliest withered That poyson lyeth by the sweetest herbe and death is mingled in the fairest bait The deluded Lover stands in his owne light he puts out his owne eyes hee stoppes his owne eares hee is cloathed in darkenesse hee wanders in blindnesse lives in lasciviousnes and dyes in forgetfullnesse while these poore rarities fanne him with silken wings of mildest ayre breathed from a whispering winde Looke back fond Lover thou sure hast dreamed all past is but delusion thy sordid affections deserve not the name of love 't is but a morrall blaze a piece of humane glory a glaunce of beauties bravery a sparke of Cupids candle a flame of Vuicans forge a flash of Natures fire hot in a minute and cold in a moment But Oh Divine Love how much art thou abused How strongly neglected who art chiefely to bee beloved Thou indeed art a bed of Roses a mountaine of Spices a Garden of sweetnesse a Type of blessednesse a Messenger of fullnesse a Mirrour of faithfullnesse with thee there is no respect of persons nor no regard of places thou mindest not vanity nor art deceived by folly Thou strivest not for honour thou lookest not after gaine thou thirstest not for revenge but hopest all things believeth all things indureth all things Thou fillest the soule with vertue with vallour humility fidelity love peace joy patience and perseverance thou art hee that preserveth earth that guideth the Heavens and lest the Universe should returne to its first Chaos thou rulest the unruly Elements thou turnest the spheres and commandest the wandring Planets in their several Orbes And when thou smilest upon the soule thou makest earth resemble heaven deformity become purity and dust immortallity how faire and how lovely art thou oh Love for delights ARe they Ministers of Christ I speake as a fooole I am more in labours more abundant in stripes above measure in prisons more frequent in deaths oft Of the Iewes five times received I forty stripes save one Thrice was I beaten with rods once was I stoned thrice I suffered shipwracke a night and a day I have beene in the deepe In journeying often in perils of waters in perils of robbers in perils by mine owne countreymen in perils by the heathen in perils in the city in perils in the wildernesse in perils in the sea in perils amongst false brethren in wearinesse and painefulnesse in watchings often in hunger and thirst infasting often in cold and nakednesse 2 Corinthians chap. 11. vers 24.25.26.27 The SOULE ANd does the pallas of immortall glory Stand by deaths darkned throne Is this story True that many a fiery dart Is shot to wound the tyred travellers heart And yet before he comes into the armes Of love must conquer death and hells alarms Induring many a storme oh where is he That shall arrive at immort allitie CHRIST What 's he that questions heaven or his power And tyes eternity to a short lived houre By words that darken knowledge Canst thou tell His thoughts of love say wortall doest thou well Is mine arme shortned or do'st thou feare Mine eare is heavy that it cannot heare Or is my truth decayed Doe I require Fond man that thou alone shouldst travell through the fire Except I go before whose power can tame The scorching furnace and the fiery flame Have not I power to save that lockt up hell And conquered death Say mortall dost than well Is man more righteous then his maker why Do'st thou then mourne dry up thy watry eye And read thy way to heaven in this story Go on I 'le crowne thee with a crowne of glory SOULE But ah I am intangled in this vale of teares While I sit downe in sorrow numerous fearet Beset me round such rubs lye in my way I looke for deaths embassage every day In which my heart is faint my fears are full My faith is feeble and my senses dull And Sathan triumphs for no power at all Is in fond man since his rebellious fall How hard a taske how short a time have wee And who can wander to eternitio It is enough oh Lord thou knowst that I Am vanity let me lie down and dye CHRIST What meane these murm'rings that doe pierce mine cares Why faithlesse sonle art thou so full of feares Heaven is not gain'd at every idle breath Love attends labour life is gain'd by death This is a debt eternity will not passe Thy glory earth is like the withering grasse Thy soule is too impure till thou dost pay That debt soul how will mine eys indure this day My soule that once was glorious sin hath stain'd My hands are fetter'd and my feet are chain'd How black hath horror made my darkned face Can Heaven love me now can he embrace Me in his Royall armes can he endure A soule that 's so deform'd that 's so impure It is enough O Lord thou knowst that I Am vanity let me lie downe and dye Alas the least temptation throwes me downe CHRIST Yet soule press forward thou shalt have a Crowne Of endlesse Royalty set on thy head In a victorious Orb. Soule 'T is true the dead That dye in thee are happy they are blest Indeed they slumber in eternall rest But I that have not strength enough to strive Through my disasters how shall I arrive At my desired haven when I read 'T is such a difficult way Christ why I will lead Thee through the sea of sorrow till the Cup Of wrath is passed ore I 'le beare thee up In ever lasting armes do but endeavour To conquer death and thou shalt live for ever As pleasure so is torment transitory Strive and I 'le crown thee with a crown of glory The third SOLILOQUIE YOu trayterous thoughts assault my sence no more oh mine eyes whither doe you wander to what great steppe of pleasure to what great pitch of honour to what illustrate sphere to what coelestiall orbe are you hurried in
well And yonder sits the Larke and turtle dove Come let 's goe walke and we will paralell Love with eternall glory in you Grove Wee 'le take the subtle Fox nor will we spare To hunt the light foot Deere or timerous Hare Come then my love my dove arise my fairest faire V. Rise Phoeb ' and come away thy blinded eye Is lul'd to ruine in dislumbring dreame Why art thou rockt in such a lullaby And drown'd in various wanton streames Come let us travell to eternity And languish in the purest sweet extreames Wherefore my deare so greedy dost thou crowd To danger why to darknesse dost thou shrowd And leave thy love alone wrapt in a sable Cloud VI. Rise Phoeb ' and come away thy short Reposes Are flattring slumbers leave thy slippry hold Of sordid earth come on a bed of Roses I le knit thy haire in knots of fringed gold Wee 'le pusse the flying day in entercloses Of dearest love with glory uncontroul'd I 'le teach thee how to surfet in the fire Of loves immortall flames while some desire To spēa their time in prais thou rather shalt admire VII Rise Phoeb ' and come away we 'le make great Jove To stop his fiery horses swift carere Whose nostrills vomit flames we 'le mount above And hold the Reines of Titans hemisphare sgrove And guide his Chariot wheeles through pleasures And view the hallowea walks Come come my dear Le ts wander to Elizium whose bright ray Out-shines great Phoebus in his new born day Or the most fairest noon rise Phoeb ' and come away The fourth SOLILOQUIE AH Lord thou commandest us to seeke thy face that we may shun death and yet thou sayest none can see thy face and live Ah! let me live that I may know thee or die that I may see thee It is the happinesse of those glorious Angels that they continually behold thee and therefore they incompasse thine Altar with sweet Odours unspeakeable Rhaptures and high Hallelujah's but we poore mortalls prest down with sinne with guilt with flesh with feare cannot worthily praise thee Ah me why doe I seeke thee If thou beest no where absent why doe I not finde thee if thou beest every where present sure to the eye of darknesse thou wrappest thy selfe in thicke darkenes and thou art discovered to the eye that is enlightned thou art seene in thy power to sinners in thy terrour to Sathan in thy Sonne to thy Saints thou art seene in thy judgement to them that are against thee in thy Justice to them that flye from thee in thy Sacraments to them that seeke thee in thy Lawes to them that love thee and in thy Love to them that know thee Whence proceedeth this thy condiscention and thine infinite humiliation that thou did'st leave thy Throne in Heaven to live in the forme of a servant on earth Why didst thou change thy Crowne of Royalty for a Crowne of Indignity Why should aninfinite Creatour love a finite Creature and Heaven stoope to Hell Alas oh Lord Jesus heere was no Royall Throne for thy Majesty no Glorious Temple to entertaine thee heere was no winged Cherubins to beare thee no Armies of Angells to stand before thee no sweete faced object to delight thine eyes no musicall Raptures to salute thine eares no costly odours to annoynt thy feete nor spangled Canopy to spread over thy head but sinne and shame guilt and feare hell and horrour blacknesse and darkenesse extremity poverty impurity deformity and canst thou love so poore a thing as man oh thou that inhabitest in Heaven in light inaccessible in glory incomprehensible who canst with a frowne overturne thine enemies fame and by their ruine purchase thy selfe glory and if the World should totally revolt from thee and set her selfe against thee Couldst thou not command a suddaine clap of thunder to spurne her from her Poles shake her from her Center crack her Axeltrees and breake her Chariot wheeles Couldst thou not let loose the Elements that the Heavens should bee hid in blacknesse and the Sunne should bee cloathed in darkenesse that the Waters should drowne the earth and the fire should devoure the aire or with an angry breath couldst thou not puffe them all away that earth and ayre and water and fire should vanish and the world should be no more and in the roome thereof create in a moment to perfect thy praises ten thousand severall Orbes Why then oh man art thou so much deluded Why is Heaven and his sweet invitations so much disregarded sure there bee foure dayes in which thou wilt call thy selfe foole for neglecting so great salvation And they be these The day of publick calamity The day of private extreamity The day of death The day of doome First in the day of publick calamity if the world should bee governed in blacknesse and darkeneste If natures fabrick should bee smitten if the powers of the world should bee shaken if the waters should bee loosed if the fire should bee kindled if the ayre should bee infected if the earth should bee poysoned if the sword should begin to range againe and thou shouldst see thousands of mangled bodies about the streets if the trumpets should sound the alarum of war againe and the drums beat dolefull funeralls for the souldiers if whisling bullets and fiery granadoes should fall like haile on the earth and roare like the thunderclaps in heaven if every mans sword should bee set against his fellow if the earth should bee paved with dead mens bones and the channels run downe with blood if this flourishing Kingdome should bee made a burnt offering her people lye beeding like a new slain sacrifice where then couldst thou finde a chamber to hide thee in but in thy beloveds armes and under the shaddow of his mighty wings when the Lord comes to make inquisition for blood and his fury shall breake out in fiery flames to lick up the sinners of the world then will Jesus Christ bee as a shadowed grove in a thundering storme as a cooling rock in a scorching day and a fountaine of water in a weary land when the worldling shall loose his anchor of hope and suffer shipwrack thou shalt safely bee set a shoare If the famine should run after the sword the stoutest heart should grow faint and the fairest face should begin to wax pale because of pining hunger If the pestilence should follow famine if terrour should walke in darkenesse and the arrowes of the Almighty fly at noone day if a thousand should fall on thy right hand and ten thousand on thy left hand and thou beginnest to feare because of the evill that is come upon the world who then can protect thee that judgements may not touch thee but Jesus Christ Tell mee then hath hee not cause to bee beloved would hee not bee worthy to bee desired Secondly in the day of private extremity when thine eyes shall bee opened and thy heart shall bee awaked when thy minde shall bee troubled
and thy conscience tormented when sinne and all its terrour shall come to make thy life intollerable when the remembrance of thy pollutions shall bee bitter to thy soule when thine eyes shall bee a flood of teares thy teares a sea of sorrow thy sorrow a clog upon thy spirit thy spirit a trouble to thy minde thy minde a torment to thy heart thy heart an enemy to thy life thy life a burthen to thy dayes when thy conscience shall gnaw thee like a ravenous Vulture and guilt and feare shall sting thee worse then an Addar when thou shalt sit downe in sorrow all the day feeding on wormwood and drinking the poyson of Aspes how wilt thou be ready to teare thy selfe in pieces when thou shalt feele a little of the weight of sin which made thy Saviour groane when thy heart shall be affrighted and thy minde shall be amazed when Hell is discovered and the Heavens are darkened then would not that glorious arme that now invites thee be welcome to thee nay would he not be worth a thousand worlds that shall ease the anguish of thy soule in such an houre Thirdly at the day of death thy beloved will be desired when the Sunne and the light and the Moone and the Stars shall be darkned and the clowdes returne after the Raigne when thy joynts shall tremble and thy knees knock together when thy courage shall be faintnesse thy beauty shall bee pâ—lenesse and thy rest shall bee wearinessâ— when thy memory shall faile thee when thine eyes shall deceive thee when death shall shake thâ—e thy riches slye from thee and the Mourners stand about thee when sin and feare and gâ—â—â—â— and horrour and death and terrour shall conduct thee through the gates of mortality and launch thee forth into the Gulph of eternity when all about thee seeme to daunce around thee in the daunce of death then sinner see in all thy inventoâ—y what wilt thou prize none but Jesus Christ and welcome Jesus Christ to the sinner in such a day Fourthly at the day of Judgement thy Saviour will be welcome when at the sound of the trumpet and the shout of the Arch Angell the sleeper shall be awaked the world shall bee started the living shall be changed the graves shall be opened the dead shall be raised when the heaven shall be covered in thicke darknesse when the Sea shall boyle up in such mighty waves as shall seeme to drowne the world when thou shalt see the earth surrounded by fire and the heavens sweltring in flames when thou shalt behold the great Judge of the world sitting upon his glorious throne borne by winged Cherubins surrounded by Armies of Angells before whom shall stand millions of naked mortals to receive their eternall doome then a smile from the Judge on the throne will revive â—â—â—e at the last and thou wilt hold up thy head with joy then that arme that now invites thee will be able to crowne thee in immortallity These are the foure dayes in which thou wilt repent thy neglect of the proffers of Love And now Reader mayst thou shut the Booke and stand amazed an howres contemplation upon the thoughts of eternity may well take roome Ah that Jesus Christ should come from the bosome of his Father from the company of his Angels from the pleasure of his Paradice from his Chaire of dignity from his Crowne of glory to put on mortality to suffer indignity to live in poverty to endure extremity to be a man of sorrow all his dayes to be buffeted scourged persecuted tormented reviled reproached dispised disgraced disparaged and abused from his cradle to his Crosse and then wander through the shaddow of death and hells darke groves from his Crosse to his Crowne How soone when the Heire of heaven was smitten was natures Fabrick shaken how soone when the Sunne of glory was extinguished was the Sunne of Heaven eclipsed What meanes the Heavens to frowne the Earth to quake the Souldiers to tremble the Temple to rend the Graves to open the Dead to arise Why must Heaven bee faine to suffer and natures Fabrick bee out of order Was all this for man Alas and what is man A little mouldring dust a piece of moving earth a maske of mortallity an inch of eternity whose life is but labour whose wisdome is but folly whose grace is but impurity whose comelynesse deformity whose substance is sinne whose glory is his shame Say Reader didst thou ever see Royalty wooe Indignity Honour looke on Lownesse Highnesse sue to Basenesse Didst thou ever see a King serve a Slave Gentility wooe Poverty and Beauty love Deformity Then Reader recollect thy wandring thoughts and before thou passest to the other page pay here the tribute of a teare How hath the Prince of darkenesse besotted blinded mortalls How is man poore man befooled How doth hee sell his Corne for Chaffe his Silver for Drosse his Treasure for Torment his Paradice for Pleasure his Glory for Honour his Heaven for Earth his Earth for Hell How doth hee set his heart on vanity and slights the richest rarity God calls once and twice and the carnall heart heares not hee comes with all the purest expressions and sweetest invitations with all the words of Art and the allurements of love yet blinded man regards not but wallowes in impurity and slumbers in a lethargy till hee perishes to eternity Ah Lord thou dwellest in that light inaccessible and brightnesse incomprehensible that no eye can see and not be struck blind thy glorious Pallace stands in eternity and thy sparkling Throne is scituate in immortallity in the midst of brightnesse in such a circle of glory that no mortall can behold unlesse hee drop downe and dye Dominion and feare are with thee and of thy Government there shall bee no end What gaine is it to thee if wee bee Righteous and wherein art thou damaged if wee bee polluted If the world should revolt from the Prince of darkenesse and vaile her Crowne to thy Supreamacy If all Nations should bee willing to bee swayed by the Scepter and bow before thy immortall Throne this cannot adde to the greatnesse of thy Majesty nor if the disobedience of thy Children the frownes of thy Foes the envy of thy Enemies the subtilty of Sathan the wickednesse of the World the helpe of Hell were against thee set in battle Ray they could not darken thy Dignity they could not eclipse thy Glory Yet albeit thou couldst gaine honour by our destruction yet thou delightest in our conversion and therefore thou offerest thy Word thy Gospel thy Sacrament thy selfe and thy sonne thou givest us Reprovements Allurements Precepts and Promises Comfort and Counsell Direction Dehortation But wee poore mortalls are too unkinde to reward thy love with disdaine thy curtesie with distoyalty but what shall wee say Shall wee that are but dust direct Eternity in his unsearcheable actions Thou commandest us to seeke thee Alas wee cannot finde thee Thou bidst us apply our selves to know