take Nor Priests nor People meanes he now to blame But answers Folly for true Wisdomes sake Beeing charged deeply by his powrefull name To tell if Christ the Sonne of God he be Who for our sinnes must die to set vs free To thee O Caiphas doth he answere giue That thou hast said what thou desir'st to know And yet thy malice will not let him liue So much thou art vnto thy selfe a foe He speaketh truth but thou wilt not beleeue Nor canst thou apprehend it to be so Though he expresse his Glory vnto thee Thy Owly eies are blind and cannot see Thou rend'st thy cloathes in stead of thy false heart And on the guiltlesse lai'st thy guilty crime For thou blasphem'st and he must feele the smart To sentence death thou think'st it now high time No witnesse now thou need'st for this fowle part Thou to the height of wickednesse canst clime And giue occasion to the ruder sort To make afflictions sorrows follies sport Now when the dawne of day gins to appeare And all your wicked counsels haue an end To end his Life that holds you all so deere For to that purpose did your studies bend Proud Pontius Pilate must the matter heare To your vntroths his eares he now must lend Sweet Iesus bound to him you led away Of his most pretious blood to make yout pray Which when that wicked Caytife did perceiue By whose lewd meanes he came to this distresse He brought the price of blood he did receiue Thinking thereby to make his fault seeme lesse And with these Priests and Elders did it leaue Confest his fault wherein he did transgresse But when he saw Repentance vnrespected He hang'd himselfe of God and Man reiected By this Example what can be expected From wicked Man which on the Earth doth liue But faithlesse dealing feare of God neglected Who for their priuate gaine cares not to sell The Innocent Blood of Gods most deere elected As did that caytife wretch now damn'd in Hell If in Christs Schoole he tooke so great a fall What will they doe that come not there at all Now Pontius Pilate is to judge the Cause Of faultlesse Iesus who before him stands Who neither hath offended Prince nor Lawes Although he now be brought in woefull bands O noble Gouernour make thou yet a pause Doe not in innocent blood imbrue thy hands But heare the words of thy most worthy wife Who sends to thee to beg her Sauiours life Let barb'rous crueltie farre depart from thee And in true Iustice take afflictions part Open thine eies that thou the truth mai'st see Doe not the thing that goes against thy heart Condemne not him that must thy Sauiour be But view his holy Life his good desert Let not vs Women glory in Mens fall Who had power giuen to ouer-rule vs all Eues Apologie ¶ Till now your indiscretion sets vs free And makes our former fault much lesse appeare Our Mother Eue who tasted of the Tree Giuing to Adam what shee held most deare Was simply good and had no powre to see The after-comming harine did not appeare The subtile Serpent that our Sex betraide Before our fall so sure a plot had laide That vndiscerning Ignorance perceau'd No guile or craft that was by him intended For had she knowne of what we were bereau'd To his request she had not condiscended But she poore soule by cunning was deceau'd No hurt therein her harmelesse Heart intended For she alleadg'd Gods word which he denies That they should die but euen as Gods be wise But surely Adam can not be excusde Her fault though great yet hee was most too blame What Weaknesse offerd Strength might haue refusde Being Lord of all the greater was his shame Although the Serpents craft had her abusde Gods holy word ought all his actions frame For he was Lord and King of all the earth Before poore Eue had either life or breath Who being fram'd by Gods eternall hand The perfect'st man that ever breath'd on earth And from Gods mouth receiu'd that strait command The breach whereof he knew was present death Yea hauing powre to rule both Sea and Land Yet with one Apple wonne to loose that breath Which God had breathed in his beauteous face Bringing vs all in danger and disgrace And then to lay the fault on Patience backe That we poore women must endure it all We know right well he did discretion lacke Beeing not perswaded thereunto at all If Eue did erre it was for knowledge sake The fruit beeing faire perswaded him to fall No subtill Serpents falshood did betray him If he would eate it who had powre to stay him Not Eue whose fault was onely too much loue Which made her giue this present to her Deare That what shee tasted he likewise might proue Whereby his knowledge might become more cleare He neuer sought her weakenesse to reproue With those sharpe words which he of God did heare Yet Men will boast of Knowledge which he tooke From Eues faire hand as from a learned Booke If any Euill did in her remaine Beeing made of him he was the ground of all If one of many Worlds could lay a staine Vpon our Sexe and worke so great a fall To wretched Man by Satans subtill traine What will so fowle a fault amongst you all Her weakenesse did the Serpents words obay But you in malice Gods deare Sonne betray Whom if vniustly you condemne to die Her sinne was small to what you doe commit All mortall finnes that doe for vengeance crie Are not to be compared vnto it If many worlds would altogether trie By all their sinnes the wrath of God to get This sinne of yours surmounts them all as farre As doth the Sunne another little starre Then let vs haue our Libertie againe And challendge to your selues no Sou'raigntie You came not in the world without our paine Make that a barre against your crueltie Your fault beeing greater why should you disdaine Our beeing your equals free from tyranny If one weake woman simply did offend This sinne of yours hath no excuse nor end To which poore soules we neuer gaue consent Witnesse thy wife O Pilate speakes for all Who did but dreame and yet a message sent That thou should'st haue nothing to doe at all With that just man which if thy heart relent Why wilt thou be a reprobate with Saul To seeke the death of him that is so good For thy soules health to shed his dearest blood Yea so thou mai'st these sinful people please Thou art content against all truth and right To seale this act that may procure thine ease With blood and wrong with tyrannie and might The multitude thou seekest to appease By base deiection of this heauenly Light Demanding which of these that thou should'st loose Whether the Thiefe or Christ King of the Iewes Base Barrabas the Thiefe they all desire And thou more base than he perform'st their will Yet when thy thoughts backe to themseluesretire Thou art vnwilling
body full of wounds Death last of paines his sorrows all confounds His joynts dis-joynted and his legges hang downe His alablaster breast his bloody side His members torne and on his head a Crowne Of sharpest Thorns to satisfie for pride Anguish and Paine doe all his Sences drowne While they his holy garments do diuide His bowells drie his heart full fraught with griefe Crying to him that yeelds him no reliefe To my Laâ—â— of Cumberland ¶ This with the eie of Faith thou maist behold Deere Spouse of Christ and more than I can write And here both Griefe and Ioy thou maist vnfold To view thy Loue in this most heauy plight Bowing his head his bloodlesse body cold Those eies waxe dimme that gaue vs all our light His count'nance pale yet still continues sweet His blessed blood watring his pierced feet O glorious miracle without compare Last but not least which was by him effected Vniting death life misery joy and care By his sharpe passion in his deere elected Who doth the Badges of like Liueries weare Shall find how deere they are of him respected No joy griefe paine life death was like to his Whose infinite dolours wrought eternall blisse â—…e terror of â—… creatures â—…hat inâ—…t when â—…rist died ¶ What creature on the earth did then remaine On whom the horror of this shamefull deed Did not inflict some violent touch or straine To see the Lord of all the world to bleed His dying breath did rend huge rockes in twaine The heauens betooke them to their mourning weed The Sunne grew darke and scorn'd to giue them light Who durst ecclipse a glory farre more bright The Moone and Starres did hide themselues for shame The earth did rremble in her loyall feare The Temple vaile did rent to spread his fame The Monuments did open euery where Dead Saints did rise forth of their graues and came To diuers people that remained there Within that holy City whose offence Did put their Maker to this large expence Things reasonable and reasonlesse possest The terrible impression of this fact For his oppression made them all opprest When with his blood he seal'd so faire an act In restlesse miserie to procure our rest His glorious deedes that dreadfull prison sackt When Death Hell Diuells vsing all their powre Were ouercome in that most blessed houre Being dead he killed Death and did suruiue That prowd insulting Tyrant in whose place He sends bright Immortalitie to reuiue Those whom his yron armes did long embrace Who from their loathsome graues brings them aliue In glory to behold their Sauiours face Who tooke the keys of all Deaths powre away Opening to those that would his name obay O wonder more than man can comprehend Our Ioy and Griefe both at one instant fram'd Compounded Contrarieties contend Each to exceed yet neither to be blam'd Our Griefe to see our Sauiours wretched end Our Ioy to know both Death and Hell he tam'd That we may say O Death where is thy sting Hell yeeld thy victory to thy conq'ring King Can stony hearts refraine from shedding teares To view the life and death of this sweet Saint His austere course in yong and tender yeares When great indurements could not make him faint His wants his paines his torments and his feares All which he vndertooke without constraint To shew that infinite Goodnesse must restore What infinite Iustice looked for and more Yet had he beene but of a meane degree His suffrings had beene small to what they were Meane minds will shew of what meane mouldes they bee Small griefes seeme great yet Vse doth make them beare But ah t is hard to stirre a sturdy tree Great dangers hardly puts great minds in feare They will conceale their griefes which mightie grow In their stout hearts vntill they ouerflow If then an earthly Prince may ill endure The least of those afflictions which he bare How could this all-commaunding King procure Such grieuous torments with his mind to square Legions of Angells being at his Lure He might haue liu'd in pleasure without care None can conceiue the bitter paines he felt When God and man must suffer without guilt Take all the Suffrings Thoughts can thinke vpon In eu'ry man that this huge world hath bred Let all those Paines and Suffrings meet in one Yet are they not a Mite to that he did Endure for vs Oh let vs thinke thereon That God should haue his pretious blood so shed His Greatnesse clothed in our fraile attire And pay so deare a ransome for the hire Loe here was glorie miserie life and death An vnion of contraries did accord Gladnesse and sadnesse here had one berth This wonder wrought the Passion of our Lord He suffring for all the sinnes of all th' earth No satisfaction could the world afford But this rich Iewell which from God was sent To call all those that would in time repent Which I present deare Lady to your view Vpon the Crosse depriu'd of life or breath To judge if euer Louer were so true To yeeld himselfe vnto such shamefull death Now blessed Ioseph doth both beg and sue To haue his body who possest his faith And thinkes if he this small request obtaines He wins more wealth than in the world remaines Thus honourable Ioseph is possest Of what his heart and soule so much desired And now he goes to giue that body rest That all his life with griefes and paines was tired He finds a Tombe a Tombe most rarely blest In which was neuer creature yet interred There this most pretious body he incloses Imbalmd and deckt with Lillies and with Roses Loe here the Beautie of Heau'n and Earth is laid The purest coulers vnderneath the Sunne But in this place he cannot long be staid Glory must end what horror hath begun For he the furie of the Heauens obay'd And now he must possesse what he hath wonne The Maries doe with pretious balmes attend But beeing come they find it to no end Christs resurrection ¶ For he is rize from Death t'Eternall Life And now those pretious oyntments he desires Are brought vnto him by his faithfull Wife The holy Church who in those rich attires Of Patience Loue Long suffring Voide of strife Humbly presents those oyntments he requires The oyles of Mercie Charitie and Faith Shee onely giues that which no other hath A briefe description of his beautie vpon the Canticles ¶ These pretious balmes doe heale his grieuous wounds And water of Compunction washeth cleane The soares of sinnes which in our Soules abounds So faire it heales no skarre is euer seene Yet all the glory vnto Christ redounds His pretious blood is that which must redeeme Those well may make vs louely in his sight But cannot saue without his powrefull might This is that Bridegroome that appeares so faire So sweet so louely in his Spouses sight That vnto Snowe we may his face compare His cheekes like skarlet and his eyes so bright As purest Doues that in the riuers
To doe that which so many better can Not that I Learning to my selfe assume Or that I would compare with any man But as they are Scholers and by Art do write So Nature yeelds my Soule a sad delight And since all Arts at first from Nature came That goodly Creature Mother of Perfection Whom Ioues almighty hand at first did frame Taking both her and hers in his protection Why should not She now grace my barren Muse And in a Woman all defects excuse So peerelesse Princesse humbly I desire That your great wisedome would vouchsafe t'omit All faults and pardon if my spirits retire Leauing to ayme at what they cannot hit To write your worth which no pen can expresse Were but t'ecclipse your Fame and make it lesse To the Lady ELIZABETHS Grace MOst gratious Ladie faire ELIZABETH Whose Name and Virtues puts vs still in mind Of her of whom we are depriu'd by death The Phoenix of her age whose worth did bind All worthy minds so long as they haue breath In linkes of Admiration loue and zeale To that deare Mother of our Common-weale Euen you faire Princesse next our famous Queene I doe inuite vnto this wholesome feast Whose goodly wisedome though your yeares be greene By such good workes may daily be increast Though your faire eyes farre better Bookes haue seene Yet being the first fruits of a womans wit Vouchsafe you fauour in accepting it To all vertuous Ladies in generall EAch blessed Lady that in Virtue spends Your pretious time to beautifie your soules Come wait on hir whom winged Fame attends And in hir hand the Booke where she inroules Those high deserts that Maiestie commends Let this faire Queene not vnattended bee When in my Glasse she daines her selfe to see Put on your wedding garments euery one The Bridegroome stayes to entertaine you all Let Virtue be your guide for she alone Can leade you right that you can neuer fall And make no stay for feare he should be gone But fill your Lamps with oyle of burning zeale That to your Faith he may his Truth reueale Let all your roabes be purple scarlet white The roabes that Christ wore before his death Those perfit colours purest Virtue wore Come deckt with Lillies that did so delight To be preferr'd in Beauty farre before Wise Salomon in all his glory dight Whose royall roabes did no such pleasure yield As did the beauteous Lilly of the field Adorne your temples with faire Daphnes crowne The neuer changing Laurel alwaies geene Let constant hope all worldly pleasures drowne â—n token of Constancie In wise Mineruaes paths be alwaies scene Or with bright Cynthia thogh faire Venus frown With Esop crosse the posts of euery doore Where Sinne would riot making Virtue poore And let the Muses your companions be Those sacred sisters that on Pallas wait Whose Virtues with the purest minds agree Whose godly labours doe auoyd the baite Of worldly pleasures liuing alwaies free From sword from violence and from ill report To these nine Worthies all faire mindes resort Annoynt your haire with Aarons pretious oyle And bring your palmes of vict'ry in your hands To ouercome all thoughts that would defile The earthly circuit of your soules faire lands Let no dimme shadowes your cleare eyes beguile Sweet odours mirrhe gum aloes frankincense Present that King who di'd for your offence Behold bright Titans shining chariot staies All deckt with flowers of the freshest hew Attended on by Age Houres Nights and Daies Which alters not your beauty but giues you Much more and crownes you with eternall praise This golden chariot wherein you must ride Let simple Doues and subtill serpents guide Come swifter than the motion of the Sunne To be transfigur'd with our louing Lord Lest Glory end what Grace in you begun Of heau'nly riches make your greatest hoord In Christ all honour wealth and beautie 's wonne By whose perfections you appeare more faire Than Phoebus if he seau'n times brighter were Gods holy Angels will direct your Doues And bring your Serpents to the fields of rest Where he doth stay that purchast all your loues In bloody torments when he di'd opprest There shall you find him in those pleasant groues Of sweet Elizium by the Well of Life Whose cristal springs do purge from worldly strife Thus may you flie from dull and sensuall earth Whereof at first your bodies formed were That new regen'rate in a second berth Your blessed soules may liue without all feare Beeing immortall subiect to no death But in the eie of heauen so highly placed That others by your virtues may be graced Where worthy Ladies I will leaue you all Desiring you to grace this little Booke Yet some of you me thinkes I heare to call Me by my name and bid me better looke Lest vnawares I in an error fall In generall tearmes to place you with the rest Whom Fame commends to be the very best T is true I must confesse O noble Fame There are a number honoured by thee Of which some few thou didst recite by name And willd my Muse they should remembred bee Wishing some would their glorious Trophies frame Which if I should presume to vndertake My tired Hand for very feare would quake Onely by name I will bid some of those That in true Honors seate haue long bin placed Yea euen such as thou 〈◊〉 chiefly chose By whom my Muse may be the better graced Therefore vnwilling longer time to lose I will inuite some Ladies that I know But chiefly those as thou hast graced so ⧠To the Ladie Arabella GReat learned Ladie whom I long haue knowne And yet not knowne so much as I desired Rare Phoenix whose faire feathers are your owne With which you flie and are so much admired True honour whom true Fame hath so attired In glittering raiment shining much more bright Than siluer Starres in the most frostie night Come like the morning Sunne new out of bed And cast your eyes vpon this little Booke Although you be so well accompan'ed With Pallas and the Muses spare one looke Vpon this humbled King who all forsooke That in his dying armes he might imbrace Your beauteous Soule and fill it with his grace ¶ To the Ladie Susan Countesse Dowager of Kent and daughter to the Duchesse of Suffolke COme you that were the Mistris of my youth The noble guide of my vngouern'd dayes Come you that haue delighted in Gods truth Help now your handmaid to sound foorth his praise You that are pleas'd in his pure excellencie Vouchsafe to grace this holy feast and me And as your rare Perfections shew'd the Glasse Wherein I saw each wrinckle of a fault You the Sunnes virtue I that faire greene grasse That flourisht fresh by your cleere virtues taught For you possest those gifts that grace the mind Restraining youth whom Errour oft doth blind In you these noble Virtues did I note First loue and feare of God of Prince of Lawes Rare Patience with a mind so farre
to sing That by her noble breasts sweet harmony Their musicke might in eares of Angels ring While saints like Swans about this siluer brook Should Hallalu-iah sing continually Writing her praises in th' eternall booke Of endlesse honour true fames memorie Thus I in sleep the heauenli'st musicke hard That euer earthly eares did entertaine And durst not wake for feare to be debard Of what my sences sought still to retaine Yet sleeping praid dull Slumber to vnfold Her noble name who was of all admired When presently in drowsie tearmes he told Not onely that but more than I desired This nymph quoth he great Penbrooke hight by name Sister to valiant Sidney whose cleere light Giues light to all that tread true paths of Fame Who in the globe of heau'n doth shine so bright That beeing dead his fame doth him suruiue Still liuing in the hearts of worthy men Pale Death is dead but he remaines aliue Whose dying wounds restor'd him life agen And this faire earthly goddesse which you see Bellona and her virgins doe attend In virtuous studies of Diuinitie Her pretious time continually doth spend So that a Sister well shee may be deemd To him that liu'd and di'd so nobly And farre before him is to be esteemd For virtue wisedome learning dignity Whose beauteous soule hath gain'd a double life Both here on earth and in the heau'ns aboue Till dissolution end all worldly strife Her blessed spirit remaines of holy loue Directing all by her immortall light In this huge sea of sorrowes griefes and feares With contemplation of Gods powrefull might Shee sils the eies the hearts the tongues the eares Of after-comming ages which shall reade Her loue her zeale her faith and pietie The faire impression of whose worthy deed Seales her pure soule vnto the Deitie That both in Hean'n and Earth it may remaine Crownd with her Makers glory and his loue And this did Father Slumber tell with paine Whose dulnesse scarce could suffer him to moue When I awaking left him and his bowre Much grieued that I could no longer stay Sencelesse was sleepe not to admit me powre As I had spent the night to spend the day Then had God Morphie shew'd the end of all And what my heart desir'd mine eies had seene For as I wak'd me thought I heard one call For that bright Charet lent by Ioues faire Queene But thou base cunning thiefe that robs our sprits Of halfe that span of life which yeares doth giue To Sleepe And yet no praise vnto thy selfe it merits To make a seeming death in those that liue Yea wickedly thou doest consent to death Within thy restfull bed to rob our soules In Slumbers bowre thou steal'st away our breath Yet none there is that thy base stealths controules If poore and sickly creatures would imbrace thee Or they to whom thou giu'st a taste of pleasure Thou fli'st as if Acteons hounds did chase thee Or that to stay with them thou hadst no leasure But though thou hast depriu'd me of delight By stealing from me ere I was aware I know I shall enioy the selfe same sight Thou hast no powre my waking sprites to barre For to this Lady now I will repaire Presenting her the fruits of idle houres Thogh many Books she writes that are more rare Yet there is hony in the meanest flowres Which is both wholesome and delights the taste Though sugar be more finer higher priz'd Yet is the painefull Bee no whit disgrac'd Nor her faire wax or hony more despiz'd And though that learned damsell and the rest Haue in a higher style her Trophie fram'd Yet these vnlearned lines beeing my best Of her great wisedom can no whit be blam'd And therefore first I here present my Dreame And next inuite her Honour to my feast For my cleare reason sees her by that streame Where her rare virtues daily are increast So crauing pardon for this bold attempt I here present my mirrour to her view Whose noble virtues cannot be exempt My Glasse beeing steele declares them to be true And Madame if you will vouchsafe that grace To grace those flowres that springs from virtues ground Though your faire mind on worthier workes is plac'd On workes that are more deepe and more profound Yet is it no disparagement to you To see your Sauiour in a Shepheards weed Vnworthily presented in your viewe Whose worthinesse will grace each line you reade Receiue him here by my vnworthy hand And reade his paths of faire humility Who though our sinnes in number passe the sand They all are purg'd by his Diuinity ¶ To the Ladie Lucie Countesse of Bedford ME thinkes I see faire Virtue readie stand T' vnlocke the closet of your louely breast Holding the key of Knowledge in her hand Key of that Cabbine where your selfe doth rest To let him in by whom her youth was blest The true-loue of your soule your hearts delight Fairer than all the world in your cleare sight He that descended from celestiall glory To taste of our infirmities and sorrowes Whose heauenly wisdom read the earthly storie Offraile Humanity which his godhead borrows Loe here he coms all stucke with pale deaths arrows In whose most pretious wounds your soule may reade Saluation while he dying Lord doth bleed You whose cleare Iudgement farre exceeds my skil Vonchsafe to entertaine this dying louer The Ocean of true grace whose streames doe fill All those with Ioy that can his loue recouer About this blessed Arke bright Angels houer Where your faire soule may sure and safely rest When he is sweetly seated in your brest There may your thoughts as seruants to your heart Giue true attendance on this louely guest While he doth to that blessed bowre impart Flowres of fresh comforts decke that bed of rest With such rich beauties as may make it blest And you in whom all raritie is found May be with his eternall glory crownd To the Ladie Margaret Countesse Dowager of Cumberland * ⎠* RIght Honoutable and Excellent Lady I may say with Saint Peter Siluer nor gold haue I none but such as I haue that giue I you for hauing neither rich pearles of India nor fine gold of Arabia nor diamonds of inestimable value neither those rich treasures Arramaticall Gums incense and sweet odours which were presented by those Kingly Philosophers to the babe Iesus I present vnto you euen our Lord Iesus himselfe whose infinit value is not to be comprehended within the weake imagination or wit of man and as Saint Peter gaue health to the body so I deliuer you the health of the soule which is this most pretious pearle of all perfection this rich diamond of deuotion this perfect gold growing in the veins of that excellent earth of the most blessed Paradice wherein our second Adam had his restlesse habitation The sweet incense balsums odours and gummes that flowes from that beautifull tree of Life sprung from the roote of Iessie which is so super-excellent that it giueth grace
to the meanest most vnworthy hand that will vndertake to write thereof neither can it receiue any blemish thereby for as a right diamond can loose no whit of his beautie by the blacke foyle vnderneath it neither by beeing placed in the darke but retaines his naturall beauty and brightnesse shining in greater perfection than before so this most pretious diamond for beauty and riches exceeding all the most pretious diamonds and rich jewels of the world can receiue no blemish nor impeachment by my vnworthy hand writing but wil with the Sunne retaine his owne brightnesse and most glorious lustre though neuer so many blind eyes looke vpon him Therefore good Madame to the most perfect eyes of your vnderstanding I deliuer the inestinable treasure of all elected soules to bee perused at conuenient times as also the mirrour of your most worthy minde which may remaine in the world many yeares longer than your Honour or my selfe can liue to be a light vnto those that come after desiring to tread in the narrow path of virtue that leads the way to heauen In which way I pray God send your Honour long to continue that your light may so shine before men that they may glorifie your father which is in Heauen and that I and many others may follow you in the same tracke So wishing you in this world all increase of health and honour and in the world to come life euerlasting I rest ¶ To the Ladie Katherine Countesse of Suffolke ALthough great Lady it may seeme right strange That I a stranger should presume thus farre To write to you yet as the times doe change So are we subiect to that fatall starre Vnder the which we were produc'd to breath That starre that guides vs euen vntill our death And guided me to frame this worke of grace Not of it selfe but by celestiall powres To which both that and wee must needs giue place Since what we haue we cannot count it ours For health wealth honour sickenesse death all Is in Gods powre which makes vs rise and fall And since his powre hath giuen me powre to write A subiect sit for you to looke vpon Wherein your soule may take no small delight When her bright eyes beholds that holy one By whose great wisedome loue and speciall grace Shee was created to behold his face Vouchsafe sweet Lady to accept these lines Writ by a hand that doth desire to doe All seruices to you whose worth combines The worthiâ—st minds to loue and honour you Whose beautie wisedome children high estate Doe all concurre to make you fortunate But chiefly your most honorable Lord Whose noble virtues Fame can ne'r forget His hand being alwayes ready to afford Help to the weake to the vnfortunate All which begets more honour and respect Than Croessus wealth or Caesars sterne aspect And rightly sheweth that hee is descended Of honourable Howards antient house Whose noble deedes by former times commended Do now remaine in your most loyall Spouse On whom God powres all blessings from aboue Wealth honour children and a worthy Loue Which is more deare to him than all the rest You being the louing Hinde and pleasant Roe Wife of his youth in whom his soule is blest Fountaine from whence his chiefe delights do flow Faire tree from which the fruit of Honor springs Heere I present to you the King of kings Desiring you to take a perfit view Of those great torments Patience did indure And reape those Comforts that belongs to you Which his most painfull death did then assure Writing the Couenant with his pretious blood That your faire soule might bathe her in that flood And let your noble daughters likewise reade This little Booke that I present to you On heauenly food let them vouchsafe to feede Heere they may see a Louer much more true Than euer was since first the world began This poore rich King that di'd both God and man Yea let those Ladies which do represent All beauty wisedome zeale and loue Receiue this iewell from Iehoua sent This spotlesse Lambe this perfit patient Doue Of whom faire Gabriel Gods bright Mercury Brought downe a message from the Deitie Here may they see him in a flood of teares Crowned with thornes and bathing in his blood Here may they see his feares exceed all feares When Heauen in Iustice flat against him stood And loathsome death with grim and gastly look Presented him that blacke infernall booke Wherein the sinnes of all the world were writ In deepe Characters of due punishment And naught but dying breath could cancel it Shame death and hell must make the attonement Shewing their euidence seizing wrongful Right Placing heau'ns Beauty in deaths darkest night Yet through the sable Clowdes of Shame Death His beauty shewes more clearer than before Death lost his strength when he did loose his breath As fire supprest doth shine and flame the more So in Deaths ashie pale discoloured face Fresh beauty shin'd yeelding farre greater grace No Doue no Swan nor Iu'rie could compare With this faire corps when 't was by death imbrac'd No rose nor no vermillion halfe so faire As was that pretious blood that iuterlac'd His body which bright Angels did attend Waiting on him that must to Heauen ascend In whom is all that Ladies can desire If Beauty who hath bin more faire than he If Wisedome doth not all the world admire The depth of his that cannot searched be If wealth if honour fame or Kingdoms store Who euer liu'd that was possest of more If zeale if grace if loue if pietie If constancie if faith if faire obedience If valour patience or sobrietie If chast behauiour meekenesse continence If iustice mercie bountie charitie Who can compare with his Diuinitie Whose vertues more than thoughts can apprehend I leaue to their more cleere imagination That will vouchsafe their borrowed time to spend In meditating and in contemplation Of his rare parts true honours faire prospect The perfect line that goodnesse doth direct And vnto you I wish those sweet desires That from your perfect thoughts doe daily spring Increasing still pure bright and holy fires Which sparkes of pretious grace by faith doe spring Mounting your soule vnto eternall rest There to liue happily among the best ⧠To the Ladie ANNE Countesse of Dorcet * ⎠* TO you I dedicate this worke of Grace This frame of Glory which I haue erected For your faire mind I hold the fittest place Where virtue should be fetled protected If highest thoughts true honor do imbrace And holy Wisdom is of them respected Then in this Mirrour let your faire eyes looke To view your virtues in this blessed Booke Blest by our Sauiours merits not my skil Which I acknowledge to be very small Yet if the least part of his blessed Will I haue perform'd I count I haue done all One sparke of grace sufficient is to fill Our Lampes with oyle ready when he doth call To enter with the Bridegroome to
claimes And registers the wrongs of humble spirits Hills melt like wax in presence of the Lord So do all sinners in his sight abhorr'd He in the waters laies his chamber beames And cloudes of darkenesse compasse him about Consuming fire shall goe before in streames And burne vp all his en'mies round about Yet on these Iudgementsw orldlings never dreames Nor of these daungers never stand in doubt While he shall rest within his holy Hill That lives and dies according to his Will But woe to them that double-hearted bee Who with their tongues the righteous Soules doe slay Bending their bowes to shoot at all they see With vpright hearts their Maker to obay And secretly doe let their arrowes flee To wound true hearted people any way The Lord wil roote them out that speake prowd things Deceitfull tongues are but false Slanders wings Froward are the vngodly from their berth No sooner borne but they doe goe astray The Lord will roote them out from off the earth And give them to their en'mies for a pray As venemous as Serpents is their breath With poysned lies to hurt in what they may The Innocent who as a Dove shall flie Vnto the Lord that he his cause may trie The righteous Lord doth righteousnesse allow His countenance will behold the thing that 's just Vnto the Meane he makes the Mightie bow And raiseth vp the Poore out of the dust Yet makes no count to vs nor when nor how But powres his grace on all that puts their trust In him that never will their hopes betray Nor lets them perish that for mercie pray He shall within his Tabernacle dwell Whose life is vncorrupt before the Lord Who no vntrueths of Innocents doth tell Nor wrongs his neighbour nor in deed nor word Nor in his pride with malice seems to swell Nor whets his tongue more sharper than a sword To wound the reputation of the Iust Nor seekes to lay their glorie in the Dust That great Iehova King of heav'n and earth Will raine downe fire and brimstone from above Vpon the wicked monsters in their berth That storme and rage at those whom he doth love Snares stormes and tempests he will raine and dearth Because he will himselfe almightie prove And this shall be their portion they shall drinke That thinkes the Lord is blind when he doth winke To the Couâ—tesse of Cumberland ¶ Pardon good Madame though I have digrest From what I doc intend to write of thee To set his glorie forth whom thou lov'st best Whose wondrous works no mortall eie can see His speciall care on those whom he hath blest From wicked worldlings how he sets them free And how such people he doth overthrow In all their waies that they his powre may know The meditation of this Monarchs love Drawes thee from caring what this world can yield Of joyes and griefes both equall thou dost prove They have no force to force thee from the field Thy constant faith like to the Turtle Dove Continues combat and will never yield To base affliction or prowd pomps desire That sets the weakest mindes so much on fire Thou from the Court to the Countrie art retir'd Leaving the world before the world leaves thee That great Enchantresse of weake mindes admir'd Whose all-bewitching charmes so pleasing be To worldly wantons and too much desir'd Of those that care not for Eternitie But yeeld themselves as preys to Lust and Sinne Loosing their hopes of Heav'n Hell paines to winne But thou the wonder of our wanton age Leav'st all delights to serve a heav'nly King Who is more wise or who can be more sage Than she that doth Affection subject bring Not forcing for the world or Satans rage But shrowding vnder the Almighties wing Spending her yeares moneths daies minutes howres In doing service to the heav'nly powres Thou faire example live without compare With Honours triumphs seated in thy breast Pale Envy never can thy name empaire When in thy heart thou harbour'st such a guest Malice must live for ever in dispaire There 's no revenge where Virtue still doth rest All hearts must needs do homage vnto thee In whom all eies such rare perfection see That outward Beautie which the world commends An Invective against outward beuty vnaccompanied with virtue Is not the subject I will write vpon Whose date expir'd that tyrant Time soone ends Those gawdie colours soone are spent and gone But those faire Virtues which on thee attends Are alwaies fresh they never are but one They make thy Beautie fairer to behold Than was that Queenes for whom prowd Troy was sold As for those matchlesse colours Red and White Or perfit features in a fading face Or due proportion pleasing to the sight All these doe draw but dangers and disgrace A mind enrich'd with Virtue shines more bright Addes everlasting Beauty gives true grace Frames an immortall Goddesse on the earth Who though she dies yet Fame gives her new berth That pride of Nature which adornes the faire Like blasing Comets to allure all eies Is but the thred that weaves their web of Care Who glories most where most their danger lies For greatest perills do attend the faire When men do seeke attempt plot and devise How they may overthrow the chastest Dame Whose Beautie is the White whereat they aime T was Beautie bred in Troy the ten yeares strife And carried Hellen from her lawfull Lord T was Beautie made chaste Lucrece loose her life For which prowd Tarquins fact was so abhorr'd Beautie the cause Antonius wrong'd his wife Which could not be decided but by sword Great Cleopatraes Beautie and defects Did worke Octaviaes wrongs and his neglects What fruit did yeeld that faire forbidden tree But blood dishonour infamie and shame Poore blinded Queene could'st thou no better see But entertaine disgrace in stead of fame Doe these designes with Maiestie agree To staine thy blood and blot thy royall name That heart that gave consent vnto this ill Did give consent that thou thy selfe should'st kill Of Rosaâ—und ¶ Faire Rosamund the wonder of her time Had bin much fairer had shee not bin faire Beautie betraid her thoughts aloft to clime To build strong castles in vncertaine aire Where th' infection of a wanton crime Did worke her fall first poyson then despaire With double death did kill her periur'd soule When heauenly Iustice did her sinne controule â—f Matilda ¶ Holy Matilda in a haplesse houre Was borne to sorow and to discontent Beauty the cause that turn'd her Sweet to Sowre While Chastity sought Folly to preuent Lustfull King Iohn refus'd did vse his powre By Fire and Sword to compasse his content But Friends disgrace nor Fathers banishment Nor Death it selfe could purchase her consent Here Beauty in the height of all perfection Crown'd this faire Creatures euerlasting fame Whose noble minde did scorne the base subiection Of Feares or Fauours to impaire her Name By heauenly grace she had such true direction To die with Honour not
to liue in Shame And drinke that poyson with a cheerefull heart That could all Heavenly grace to her impart To the Ladie of Cumberland the Introduction to the passion of Christ. ¶ This Grace great Lady doth possesse thy Soule And makes thee pleasing in thy Makers sight This Grace doth all imperfect Thoughts controule Directing thee to serue thy God aright Still reckoning him the Husband of thy Soule Which is most pretious in his glorious sight Because the Worlds delights shee doth denie For him who for her sake vouchsaf'd to die And dying made her Dowager of all Nay more Co-heire of that eternall blisse That Angels lost and We by Adams fall Meere Cast-awaies rais'd by a Iudas kisse Christs bloody sweat the Vineger and Gall The Speare Sponge Nailes his buffeting with Fists His bitter Passion Agony and Death Did gaine vs Heauen when He did loose his breath A preamble of the Author before the Passion ¶ These high deserts inuites my lowely Muse To write of Him and pardon craue of thee For Time so spent I need make no excuse Knowing it doth with thy faire Minde agree So well as thou no Labour wilt refuse That to thy holy Loue may pleasing be His Death and Passion I desire to write And thee to reade the blessed Soules delight But my deare Muse now whither wouldst thou flie Aboue the pitch of thy appointed straine With Icarus thou seekest now to trie Not waxen wings but thy poore barren Braine Which farre too weake these fiely lines descrie Yet cannot this thy forward Mind restraine But thy poore Infant Verse must soare aloft Not fearing threat'ning dangers happening oft Thinke when the eye of Wisdom shall discover Thy weakling Muse to flie that scarce could creepe And in the Ayre aboue the Clowdes to hover When better 't were mued vp and fast asleepe They 'l thinke with Phaeton thou canst ne'r recover But helplesse with that poore yong Lad to weepe The little World of thy weake Wit on fire Where thou wilt perish in thine owne desire But yet the Weaker thou doest seeme to be In Sexe or Sence the more his Glory shines That doth infuze such powrefull Grace in thee To shew thy Love in these few humble Lines The Widowes Myte with this may well agree Her little All more worth than golden mynes Beeing more deerer to our loving Lord Than all the wealth that Kingdoms could afford Therefore I humbly for his Grace will pray That he will give me Power and Strength to Write That what I haue begun so end I may As his great Glory may appeare more bright Yea in these Lines I may no further stray Than his most holy Spirit shall giue me Light That blindest Weakenesse be not over-bold The manner of his Passion to vnfold In other Phrases than may well agree With his pure Doctrine and most holy Writ That Heavens cleare eye and all the World may see I seeke his Glory rather than to get The Vulgars breath the seed of Vanitie Nor Fames lowd Trumpet care I to admit But rather strive in plainest Words to showe The Matter which I seeke to vndergoe A Matter farre beyond my barren skill To shew with any Life this map of Death This Storie that whole Worlds with Bookes would fill In these few Lines will put me out of breath To run so swiftly vp this mightie Hill I may behold it with the eye of Faith But to present this pure vnspotted Lambe I must confesse I farre vnworthy am Yet if he please t' illuminate my Spirit And giue me Wisdom from his holy Hill That I may Write part of his glorious Merit If he vouchsafe to guide my Hand and Quill To shew his Death by which we doe inherit Those endlesse Ioyes that all our hearts doe fill Then will I tell of that sad blacke fac'd Night Whose mourning Mantle covered Heavenly Light Here beginâ—… the Passion 〈◊〉 Christ. ¶ That very Night our Saviour was betrayd Oh night exceeding all the nights of sorrow When our most blessed Lord although dismayd Yet would not he one Minutes respite borrow But to Mount Oliues went though sore afraid To welcome Night and entertaine the Morrow And as he oft vnto that place did goe So did he now to meete his long nurst woe He told his deere Disciples that they all Should be offended by him that selfe night His Griefe was great and theirs could not be small To part from him who was their sole Delight Saint Peter thought his Faith could neuer fall No mote could happen in so cleare a sight Which made him say Though all men were offended Yet would he never though his life were ended But his deare Lord made answere That before The Cocke did crowe he should deny him thrice This could not choose but grieue him very sore That his hot Loue should prooue more cold than Ice Denying him he did so much adore No imperfection in himselfe hespies But saith againe with him hee 'l surely die Rather than his deare Master once denie And all the rest did likewise say the same Of his Disciples at that instant time But yet poore Peter he was most too blame That thought aboue them all by Faith to clime His forward speech inflicted sinne and shame When Wisdoms eyes did looke and checke his crime Who did foresee and told it him before Yet would he needs auerre it more and more Now went our Lord vnto that holy place Sweet Gethsemaine hallowed by his presence That blessed Garden which did now embrace His holy corps yet could make no defence Against those Vipers obiects of disgrace Which sought that pure eternall Loue to quench Here his Disciples willed he to stay Whilst he went further where he meant to pray None were admitted with their Lord to goe But Peter and the sonnes of Zebed'us To them good Iesus opened all his woe He gaue them leaue his sorows to discusse His deepest griefes he did not scorne to showe These three deere friends so much he did intrust Beeing sorowfull and ouercharg'd with griefe He told it them yet look'd for no reliefe Sweet Lord how couldst thou thus to flesh and blood Communicate thy griefe tell of thy woes Thou knew'st they had no powre to doe thee good But were the cause thou must endure these blowes Beeing the Scorpions bred in Adams mud Whose poys'ned sinnes did worke among thy foes To re-ore-charge thy ouer-burd'ned soule Although the sorowes now they doe condole Yet didst thou tell them of thy troubled state Of thy Soules heauinesse vnto the death So full of Loue so free wert thou from hate To bid them stay whose sinnes did stop thy breath When thou wert entring at so straite a gate Yea entring euen into the doore of Death Thou bidst them tarry there and watch with thee Who from thy pretious blood-shed were not free Bidding them tarry thou didst further goe To meet affliction in such gracefull sort As might mooue pitie both in friend and foe Thy sorowes
such as none could them comport Such great Indurements who did euer know When to th' Almighty thou didst make resort And falling on thy face didst humbly pray If 't were his Will that Cup might passe away Saying Not my will but thy will Lord be done When as thou prayedst an Angel did appeare From Heauen to comfort thee Gods onely Sonne That thou thy Suffrings might'st the better beare Beeing in an agony thy glasse neere run Thou prayedst more earnestly in so great feare That pretious sweat came trickling to the ground Like drops of blood thy sences to confound Loe here his Will not thy Will Lord was done And thou content to vndergoe all paines Sweet Lambe of God his deare beloved Sonne By this great purchase what to thee remaines Of Heaven and Earth thou hast a Kingdom wonne Thy Glory beeing equall with thy Gaines In ratifying Gods promise on th' earth Made many hundred yeares before thy berth But now returning to thy sleeping Friends That could not watch one houre for love of thee Even those three Friends which on thy Grace depends Yet shut those Eies that should their Maker see What colour what excuse or what amends From thy Displeasure now can set them free Yet thy pure Pietie bids them Watch and Pray Lest in Temptation they be led away Although the Spirit was willing to obay Yet what great weakenesse in the Flesh was found They slept in Ease whilst thou in Paine didst pray Loe they in Sleepe and thou in Sorow drown'd Yet Gods right Hand was vnto thee a stay When horror griefe and sorow did abound His Angel did appeare from Heaven to thee To yeeld thee comfort in Extremitie But what could comfort then thy troubled Minde When Heaven and Earth were both against thee bent And thou no hope no ease no rest could'st finde But must restore that Life which was but lent Was ever Creature in the World so kinde But he that from Eternitie was sent To satisfie for many Worlds of Sinne Whose matchiesse Torments did but then begin If one Mans sinne doth challenge Death and Hell With all the Torments that belong thereto If for one sinne such Plagues on David fell As grieved him and did his Seed vndoe If Salomon for that he did not well Falling from Grace did loose his Kingdome too Ten Tribes beeing taken from his wilfull Sonne And Sinne the Cause that they were all vndone What could thy Innocency now expect When all the Sinnes that ever were committed Were laid to thee whom no man could detect Yet farre thou wert of Man from beeing pittied The Iudge so iust could yeeld thee no respect Nor would one jot of penance be remitted But greater horror to thy Soule must rise Than Heart can thinke or any Wit devise Now drawes the houre of thy affliction neere And vgly Death presents himselfe before thee Thou now must leaue those Friends thou held'st so deere Yea those Disciples who did most adore thee Yet in thy countenance doth no Wrath appeare Although betrayd to those that did abhorre thee Thou did'st vouchsafe to visit them againe Who had no apprehension of thy paine Their eyes were heavie and their hearts asleepe Nor knew they well what answere then to make thee Yet thou as Watchman had'st a care to keepe Those few from sinne that shortly would forsake thee But now thou bidst them henceforth Rest and Sleepe Thy houre is come and they at hand to take thee The Sonne of God to Sinners made a pray Oh hatefull houre oh blest oh cursed day Loe here thy great Humility was found Beeing King of Heauen and Monarch of the Earth Yet well content to haue thy Glory drownd By beeing counted of so meane a berth Grace Loue and Mercy did so much abound Thou entertaindst the Crosse euen to the death And nam'dst thy selfe the sonne of Man to be To purge our pride by thy Humilitie But now thy friends whom thou didst call to goe Heauy Spectators of thy haplesse case See thy Betrayer whom too well they knowe One of the twelue now object of disgrace A trothlesse traytor and a mortall foe With fained kindnesse seekes thee to imbrace And giues a kisse whereby he may deceiue thee That in the hands of Sinners he might leaue thee Now muster forth with Swords with Staues with Bils High Priests and Scribes and Elders of the Land Seeking by force to haue their wicked Wils Which thou didst neuer purpose to withstand Now thou mak'st haste vnto the worst of Ils And who they seeke thou gently doest demand This didst thou Lord t' amaze these Fooles the more T' inquire of that thou knew'st so well before When loe these Monsters did not shame to tell His name they sought and found yet could not know Iesus of Nazareth at whose feet they fell When Heauenly Wisdome did descend so lowe To speak to them they knew they did not well Their great amazement made them backeward goe Nay though he said vnto them I am he They could not know him whom their eyes did see How blinde were they could not discerne the Light How dull if not to vnderstand the truth How weake if meekenesse overcame their might How stony hearted if not mov'd to ruth How void of Pitie and how full of Spight Gainst him that was the Lord of Light and Truth Here insolent Boldnesse checkt by Love and Grace Retires and falls before our Makers face For when he spake to this accursed crew And mildely made them know that it was he Presents himselfe that they might take a view And what they doubted they might cleerely see Nay more to re-assure that it was true He said I say vnto you I am hee If him they sought he 's willing to obay Onely desires the rest might goe their way Thus with a heart prepared to endure The greatest wrongs Impietie could devise He was content to stoope vnto their Lure Although his Greatnesse might doe otherwise Here Grace was seised on with hands impure And Virtue now must be supprest by Vice Pure Innocencie made a prey to Sinne Thus did his Torments and our Ioyes beginne Here faire Obedience shined in his breast And did suppresse all feare of future paine Love was his Leader vnto this vnrest Whil'st Righteousnesse doth carry vp his Traine Mercy made way to make vs highly blest When Patience beat downe Sorrow Feare and Paine Iustice sate looking with an angry brow On blessed misery appeering now More glorious than all the Conquerors That euer liu'd within this Earthly round More powrefull than all Kings or Gouernours That euer yet within this World were found More valiant than the greatest Souldiers That euer fought to haue their glory crown'd For which of them that euer yet tooke breath Sought t' indure the doome of Heauen and Earth But our sweet Sauiour whom these Iewes did name Yet could their learned Ignorance apprehend No light of grace to free themselues from blame Zeale Lawes Religion now they doe pretend Against
the truth vntruths they seeke to frame Now al their powres their wits their strengths they bend Against one siely weake vnarmed man Who no resistance makes though much he can To free himselfe from these vnlearned men Who call'd him Sauiour in his blessed name Yet farre from knowing him their Sauiour then That came to saue both them and theirs from blame Though they retire and fall they come agen To make a surer purchase of their shame With lights and torches now they find the way To take the Shepheard whilst the sheep doe stray Why should vnlawfull actions vse the Light Inniquitie in Darkenesse seekes to dwell Sinne rides his circuit in the dead of Night Teaching all soules the ready waies to hell Sathan coms arm'd with all the powres of Spight Heartens his Champions makes them rude and fell Like rau'ning wolues to shed his guiltlesse blood Who thought no harme but di'd to doe them good Here Falshood beares the shew of formall Right Base Treacherie hath gote a guard of men Tyranny attends with all his strength and might To leade this siely Lamb to Lyons denne Yet he vnmoou'd in this most wretched plight Goes on to meete them knowes the houre and when The powre of darkenesse must expresse Gods ire Therefore to saue these few was his desire These few that wait on Pouerty and Shame And offer to be sharers in his Ils These few that will be spreaders of his Fame He will not leaue to Tyrants wicked wils But still desires to free them from all blame Yet Feare goes forward Anger Patience kils A Saint is mooued to reuenge a wrong And Mildnesse doth what doth to Wrath belong For Peter grieu'd at what might then befall Yet knew not what to doe nor what to thinke Thought something must be done now if at all To free his Master that he might not drinke This poys'ned draught farre bitterer than gall For now he sees him at the very brinke Of griesly Death who gins to shew his face Clad in all colours of a deepe disgrace And now those hands that neuer vs'd to fight Or drawe a weapon in his owne defence Too forward is to doe his Master right Since of his wrongs hee feeles so true a sence But ah poore Peter now thou wantest might And hee 's resolu'd with them he will goe hence To draw thy sword in such a helpelesse cause Offends thy Lord and is against the Lawes So much he hates Revenge so farre from Hate That he vouchsafes to heale whom thou dost wound His paths are Peace with none he holdes Debate His Patience stands vpon so sure a ground To counsell thee although it comes too late Nay to his foes his mercies so abound That he in pitty doth thy will restraine And heales the hurt and takes away the paine For willingly he will endure this wrong Although his pray'rs might have obtain'd such grace As to dissolve their plots though ne'r so strong And bring these wicked Actors in worse case Than Aegypts King on whom Gods plagues did throng But that foregoing Scriptures must take place If God by prayers had an army sent Of powrefull Angels who could them prevent Yet mightie IESVS meekely ask'd Why they With Swords and Staves doe come as to a Thiefe Hee teaching in the Temple day by day None did offend or give him cause of griefe Now all are forward glad is he that may Give most offence and yeeld him least reliefe His hatefull foes are ready now to take him And all his deere Disciples do forsake him Those deare Disciples that he most did love And were attendant at his becke and call When triall of affliction came to prove They first left him who now must leave them all For they were earth and he came from above Which made them apt to flie and fit to fall Though they protest they never will forsake him They do like men when dangers overtake them And he alone is bound to loose vs all Whom with vnhallowed hands they led along To wicked Caiphas in the Iudgement Hall Who studies onely how to doe him wrong High Priests and Elders People great and small With all reprochfull words about him throng False Witnesses are now call'd in apace Whose trothlesse tongues must make pale death imbrace The beauty of the World Heauens chiefest Glory The mirrour of Martyrs Crowne of holy Saints Loue of th' Almighty blessed Angels story Water of Life which none that drinks it faints Guide of the Iust where all our Light we borrow Mercy of Mercies Hearer of Complaints Triumpher ouer Death Ransomer of Sinne Falsly accused now his paines begin Their tongues doe serue him as a Passing bell For what they say is certainly beleeued So sound a tale vnto the Iudge they tell That he of Life must shortly be bereaued Their share of Heauen they doe not care to sell So his afflicted Heart be throughly grieued They tell his Words though farre from his intent And what his Speeches were not what he meant That he Gods holy Temple could destroy And in three daies could build it vp againe This seem'd to them a vaine and idle toy It would not sinke into their sinful braine Christs blessed body al true Christians joy Should die and in three dayes reuiue againe This did the Lord of Heauen and earth endure Vniustly to be charg'd by tongues impure And now they all doe giue attentiue eare To heare the answere which he will not make The people wonder how he can forbeare And these great wrongs so patiently can take But yet he answers not nor doth he care Much more he will endure for our sake Nor can their wisdoms any way discouer Who he should be that proou'd so true a Louer To entertaine the sharpest pangs of death And fight a combate in the depth of hell For wretched Worldlings made of dust and earth Whose hard'ned hearts with pride and mallice swell In midst of bloody sweat and dying breath He had compassion on these tyrants fell And purchast them a place in Heau'n for euer When they his Soule and Body sought to seuer Sinnes vgly mists so blinded had their eyes That at Noone dayes they could discerne no Light These were those fooles that thought themselues so wise The Iewish wolues that did our Sauiour bite For now they vse all meanes they can deuise To beate downe truth and goe against all right Yea now they take Gods holy name in vaine To know the truth which truth they doe prophane The chiefest Hel-hounds of this hatefull crew Rose vp to aske what answere he could make Against those false accusers in his view That by his speech they might aduantage take He held his peace yet knew they said not true No answere would his holy wisdome make Till he was charged in his glorious name Whose pleasure t was he should endure this shame Then with so mild a Maiestie he spake As they might easly know from whence he came His harmelesse tongue doth no exceptions
are Washed with milke to giue the more delight His head is likened to the finest gold His curled lockes so beauteous to behold Blacke as a Raven in her blackest hew His lips like skarlet threeds yet much more sweet Than is the sweetest hony dropping dew Or hony combes where all the Bees doe meet Yea he is constant and his words are true His cheekes are beds of spices flowers sweet His lips like Lillies dropping downe pure mirrhe Whose loue before all worlds we doe preferre To my Lady of Cumberland ¶ Ah! giue me leaue good Lady now to leaue This taske of Beauty which I tooke in hand I cannot wade so deepe I may deceaue My selfe before I can attaine the land Therefore good Madame in your heart I leaue His perfect picture where it still shall stand Deepely engraued in that holy shrine Enuironed with Loue and Thoughts diuine There may you see him as a God in glory And as a man in miserable case There may you reade his true and perfect storie His bleeding body there you may embrace And kisse his dying cheekes with teares of sorrow With ioyfull griefe you may intreat for grace And all your prayers and your almes-deeds May bring to stop his cruell wounds that bleeds Oft times hath he made triall of your loue And in your Faith hath tooke no small delight By Crosses and Afflictions he doth proue Yet still your heart remaineth firme and right Your loue so strong as nothing can remoue Your thoughts beeing placed on him both day and night Your constant soule doth lodge betweene her brests This Sweet of sweets in which all glory rests Sometime h' appeares to thee in Shepheards weed And so presents himselfe before thine eyes A good old man that goes his flocke to feed Thy colour changes and thy heart doth rise Thou call'st he comes thou find'st t is he indeed Thy Soule conceaues that he is truely wise Nay more desires that he may be the Booke Whereon thine eyes continually may looke Sometime imprison'd naked poore and bare Full of diseases impotent and lame Blind deafe and dumbe he comes vnto his faire To see if yet shee will remaine the same Nay sicke and wounded now thou do'st prepare To cherish him in thy deare Louers name Yea thou bestow'st all paines all cost all care That may relieue him and his health repaire These workes of mercy are so sweete so deare To him that is the Lord of Life and Loue That all thy prayers he vouchsafes to heare And sends his holy Spirit from aboue Thy eyes are op'ned and thou seest so cleare No worldly thing can thy faire mind remoue Thy faith thy prayers and his speciall grace Doth open Heau'n where thou behold'st his face These are those Keyes Saint Peter did possesse Which with a Spirituall powre are giu'n to thee To heale the soules of those that doe transgresse By thy faire virtues which if once they see Vnto the like they doe their minds addresse Such as thou art such they desire to be If they be blind thou giu'st to them their sight If deafe or lame they heare and goe vpright Yea if possest with any euill spirits Such powre thy faire examples haue obtain'd To cast them out applying Christs pure merits By which they are bound and of all hurt restrain'd If strangely taken wanting sence or wits Thy faith appli'd vnto their soules so pain'd Healeth all griefes and makes them grow so strong As no defects can hang vpon them long Thou beeing thus rich no riches do'st respect Nor do'st thou care for any outward showe The proud that doe faire Virtues rules neglect Desiring place thou fittest them belowe All wealth and honour thou do'st quite reiect If thou perceiu'st that once it prooues a foe To virtue learning and the powres diuine Thou mai'st conuert but neuer wilt incline To fowle disorder or licentiousnesse But in thy modest vaile do'st sweetly couer The staines of other sinnes to make themselues That by this meanes thou mai'st in time recouer Those weake lost sheepe that did so long transgresse Presenting them vnto thy deerest Louer That when he brings them backe vnto his fold In their conuersion then he may behold Thy beauty shining brighter than the Sunne Thine honour more than euer Monarke gaind Thy wealth exceeding his that Kingdomes wonne Thy Loue vnto his Spouse thy Faith vnfaind Thy Constancy in what thou hast begun Till thou his heauenly Kingdom haue obtaind Respecting worldly wealth to be but drosse Which if abuz'd doth prooue the owners losse Great Cleopatra's loue to Anthony Can no way be compared vnto thine Shee left her Loue in his extremitie When greatest need should cause her to combine Her force with his to get the Victory Her Loue was earthly and thy Loue Diuine Her Loue was onely to support her pride Humilitie thy Loue and Thee doth guide That glorious part of Death which last shee plai'd T' appease the ghost of her deceased Loue Had neuer needed if shee could haue stai'd When his extreames made triall and did proue Her leaden loue vnconstant and afraid Their wicked warres the wrath of God might moue To take reuenge for chast Octavia's wrongs Because shee enjoyes what vnto her belongs No Cleopatra though thou wert as faire As any Creature in Antonius eyes Yea though thou wert as rich as wise as rare As any Pen could write or Wit deuise Yet with this Lady canst thou not compare Whose inward virtues all thy worth denies Yet thou a blacke Egyptian do'st appeare Thou false shee true and to her Loue more deere Shee sacrificeth to her deerest Loue With flowres of Faith and garlands of Good deeds Shee flies not from him when afflictions proue Shee beares his crosse and stops his wounds that bleeds Shee loues and liues chaste as the Turtle doue Shee attends vpon him and his flocke shee feeds Yea for one touch of death which thou did'st trie A thousand deaths shee euery day doth die Her virtuous life exceeds thy worthy death Yea she hath richer ornaments of state Shining more glorious than in dying breath Thou didst when either pride or cruell fate Did worke thee to preuent a double death To stay the malice scorne and cruell hate Of Rome that joy'd to see thy pride pull'd downe Whose Beauty wrought the hazard of her Crowne Good Madame though your modestie be such Not to acknowledge what we know and find And that you thinke these prayses ouermuch Which doe expresse the beautie of your mind Yet pardon me although I giue a touch Vnto their eyes that else would be so blind As not to see thy store and their owne wants From whose faire seeds of Virtue spring these plants And knowe when first into this world I came This charge was giu'n me by th' Eternall powres Th'euerlasting Trophie of thy fame To build and decke it with the sweetest flowres That virtue yeelds Then Madame doe not blame Me when I shew the World but what is yours And decke you with
wisedome which saluation brings The Sonne of righteousnesse that giues true joyes When all they sought for were but Earthly toyes No trauels ought th' affected soule to shunne That this faire heauenly Light desires to see This King of kings to whom we all should runne To view his Glory and his Majestie He without whom we all had beene vndone He that from Sinne and Death hath set vs free And ouercome Satan the world and finne That by his merits we those joyes might winne Prepar'd by him whose euerlasting throne Is plac'd in heauen aboue the starrie skies Where he that sate was like the Iasper stone Who rightly knowes him shall be truely wise A Rainebow round about his glorious throne Nay more those winged beasts so full of eies That neuer cease to glorifie his Name Who was and will be and is now the same This is that great almightie Lord that made Both heauen and earth and liues for euermore By him the worlds foundation first was laid He fram'd the things that neuer were before The Sea within his bounds by him is staid He judgeth all alike both rich and poore All might all majestie all loue all lawe Remaines in him that keepes all worlds in awe From his eternall throne the lightning came Thundrings and Voyces did from thence proceede And all the creatures glorifi'd his name In heauen in earth and seas they all agreed When loe that spotlesse Lambe so voyd of blame That for vs di'd whose sinnes did make him bleed That true Physition that so many heales Opened the Booke and did vndoe the Seales He onely worthy to vndoe the Booke Of our charg'd soules full of iniquitie Where with the eyes of mercy he doth looke Vpon our weakenesse and infirmitie This is that corner stone that was forsooke Who leaues it trusts but to vncertaintie This is Gods Sonne in whom he is well pleased His deere beloued that his wrath appeased He that had powre to open all the Seales And summon vp our sinnes of blood and wrong He vnto whom the righteous soules appeales That haue bin martyrd and doe thinke it long To whom in mercie he his will reueales That they should rest a little in their wrong Vntill their fellow seruants should be killed Euen as they were and that they were fulfilled To the Laâ—â— dowager of Cumberland ¶ Pure thoughted Lady blessed be thy choyce Of this Almightie euerlasting King In thee his Saints and Angels doe reioyce And to their Heau'nly Lord doe daily sing Thy perfect praises in their lowdest voyce And all their harpes and golden vials bring Full of sweet odours euen thy-holy prayers Vnto that spotlesse Lambe that all repaires Of whom that Heathen Queene obtain'd such grace By honouring but the shadow of his Loue That great Iudiciall day to haue a place Condemning those that doe vnfaithfull proue Among the haplesse happie is her case That her deere Sauiour spake for her behoue And that her memorable Act should be Writ by the hand of true Eternitie Yet this rare Phoenix of that worne-out age This great maiesticke Queene comes short of thee Who to an earthly Prince did then ingage Her hearts desires her loue her libertie Acting her glorious part vpon a Stage Of weaknesse frailtie and infirmity Giuing all honour to a Creature due To her Creator whom shee neuer knew But loe a greater thou hast sought and found Than Salomon in all his royaltie And vnto him thy faith most firmely bound To serue and honour him continually That glorious God whose terror doth confound All sinfull workers of iniquitie Him hast thou truely serued all thy life And for his loue liu'd with the world at strife To this great Lord thou onely art affected Yet came he not in pompe or royaltie But in an humble habit base deiected A King a God clad in mortalitie He hath thy loue thou art by him directed His perfect path was faire humilitie Who being Monarke of heau'n earth and seas Indur'd all wrongs yet no man did displease Then how much more art thou to be commended That seek'st thy loue in lowly shepheards weed A seeming Trades-mans sonne of none attended Saue of a few in pouertie and need Poore Fishermen that on his loue attended His loue that makes so many thousands bleed Thus did he come to trie our faiths the more Possessing worlds yet seeming extreame poore The Pilgrimes trauels and the Shepheards cares He tooke vpon him to enlarge our soules What pride hath lost humilitie repaires For by his glorious death he vs inroules In deepe Characters writ with blood and teares Vpon those blessed Euerlasting scroules His hands his feete his body and his face Whence freely flow'd the riuers of his grace Sweet holy riuers pure celestiall springs Proceeding from the fountaine of our life Swift sugred currents that saluation brings Cleare christall streames purging all sinne and strife Faire floods where souls do bathe their snow-white wings Before they flie to true etern all life Sweet Nectar and Ambrosia food of Saints Which whoso tasteth neuer after faints This hony dropping dew of holy loue Sweet milke wherewith we weaklings are restored Who drinkes thereof a world can neuer moue All earthly pleasures are of them abhorred This loue made Martyrs many deaths to proue To taste his sweetnesse whom they so adored Sweetnesse that makes our flesh a burthen to vs Knowing it serues but onely to vndoe vs. His sweetnesse sweet'ned all the sowre of death To faithfull Stephen his appointed Saint Who by the riuer stones did loose his breath When paines nor terrors could not make him faint So was this blessed Martyr turn'd to earth To glorifie his soule by deaths attaint This holy Saint was humbled and cast downe To winne in heauen an euerlasting crowne Whose face repleat with Maiestie and Sweetnesse Did as an Angel vnto them appeare That sate in Counsell hearing his discreetnesse Seeing no change or any signe of a feare But with a constant browe did there confesse Christs high deserts which were to him so deare Yea when these Tyrants stormes did most oppresse Christ did appeare to make his griefe the lesse For beeing filled with the holy Ghost Vp vnto Heau'n he look'd with stedfast eies Where God appeared with his heauenly hoste In glory to this Saint before he dies Although he could no Earthly pleasures boast At Gods right hand sweet IESVS he espies Bids them behold Heauens open he doth see The Sonne of Man at Gods right hand to be Whose sweetnesse sweet'ned that short sowre of Life Making all bitternesse delight his taste Yeelding sweet quietnesse in bitter strife And most contentment when he di'd disgrac'd Heaping vp joyes where sorrows were most rife Such sweetnesse could not choose but be imbrac'd The food of Soules the Spirits onely treasure The Paradise of our celestiall pleasure This Lambe of God who di'd and was aliue Presenting vs the bread of life Eternall His bruised body powrefull to reuiue Our sinking soules out of the pit infernall
may he grieue well may he sigh and groane Vnder the burthen of a heauy crosse He faintly goes to make their gaine his losse The sorrow of the virgin Marie ¶ His woefull Mother wayting on her Sonne All comfortlesse in depth of sorow drowned Her griefes extreame although but new begun To see his bleeding body oft shee swouned How could shee choose but thinke her selfe vndone He dying with whose glory shee was crowned None euer lost so great a losse as shee Beeing Sonne and Father of Eternitie Her teares did wash away his pretious blood That sinners might not tread it vnder feet To worship him and that it did her good Vpon her knees although in open street Knowing he was the Iessie floure and bud That must be gath'red when it smell'd most sweet Her Sonne her Husband Father Saviour King Whose death killd Death and tooke away his sting Most blessed Virgin in whose faultlesse fruit All Nations of the earth must needes reioyce No Creature having sence though ne'r so brute But ioyes and trembles when they heare his voyce His wisedome strikes the wisest persons mute Faire chosen vessell happy in his choyce Deere Mother of our Lord whose reuerend name All people Blessed call and spread thy fame For the Almightie magnified thee And looked downe vpon thy meane estate Thy lowly mind and vnstain'd Chastitie Did pleade for Loue at great Iehouaes gate Who sending swift-wing'd Gabriel vnto thee His holy will and pleasure to relate To thee most beauteous Queene of Woman-kind The Angell did vnfold his Makers mind The salutation of the virgin Marie ¶ He thus beganne Haile Mary full of grace Thou freely art beloued of the Lord He is with thee behold thy happy case What endlesse comfort did these words afford To thee that saw'st an Angell in the place Proclaime thy Virtues worth and to record Thee blessed among women that thy praise Should last so many worlds beyond thy daies Loe this high message to thy troubled spirit He doth deliuer in the plainest sence Sayes Thou shouldst beare a Sonne that shal inherit His Father Dauids throne free from offence Call's him that Holy thing by whose pure merit We must be sau'd tels what he is of whence His worth his greatnesse what his name must be Who should be call'd the Sonne of the most High He cheeres thy troubled soule bids thee not feare When thy pure thoughts could hardly apprehend This salutation when he did appeare Nor couldst thou judge whereto those words did tend His pure aspect did mooue thy modest cheere To muse yet joy that God vouchsaf'd to send His glorious Angel who did thee assure To beare a child although a Virgin pure Nay more thy Sonne should Rule and Raigne for euer Yea of his Kingdom there should be no end Ouer the house of Iacob Heauens great Giuer Would giue him powre and to that end did send His faithfull seruant Gabriel to deliuer To thy chast eares no word that might offend But that this blessed Infant borne of thee Thy Sonne The onely Sonne of God should be When on the knees of thy submissiue heart Thou humbly didst demand How that should be Thy virgin thoughts did thinke none could impart This great good hap and blessing vnto thee Farre from desire of any man thou art Knowing not one thou art from all men free When he to answere this thy chaste desire Giues thee more cause to wonder and admire That thou a blessed Virgin shoulst remaine Yea that the holy Ghost should come on thee A maiden Mother subiect to no paine For highest powre should ouershadow thee Could thy faire eyes from teares of joy refraine When God look'd downe vpon thy poore degree Making thee Seruant Mother Wife and Nurse To Heauens bright King that freed vs from the curse Thus beeing crown'd with glory from aboue Grace and Perfection resting in thy breast Thy humble answer doth approoue thy Loue And all these sayings in thy heart doe rest Thy Child a Lambe and thou a Turtle doue Aboue all other women highly blest To find such fauour in his glorious sight In whom thy heart and soule doe most delight What wonder in the world more strange could seeme Than that a Virgin could conceiue and beare Within her wombe a Sonne That should redeeme All Nations on the earth and should repaire Our old decaies who in such high esteeme Should prize all mortals liuing in his feare As not to shun Death Pouertie and Shame To saue their soules and spread his glorious Name And partly to fulfil his Fathers pleasure Whose powrefull hand allowes it not for strange If he vouchsafe the riches of his treasure Pure Righteousnesse to take such il exchange On all Iniquitie to make a seisure Giuing his snow-white Weed for ours in change Our mortall garment in a skarlet Die Too base a roabe for Immortalitie Most happy news that euer yet was brought When Pouerty and Riches met together The wealth of Heauen in our fraile clothing wrought Saluation by his happy comming hither Mighty Messias who so deerely bought Vs Slaues to finne farre lighter than a feather Toss'd to and fro with euery wicked wind The world the flesh or Deuill giues to blind Who on his shoulders our blacke sinnes doth beare To that most blessed yet accursed Crosse Where fastning them he rids vs of our feare Yea for our gaine he is content with losse Our ragged clothing scornes he not to weare Though foule rent torne disgracefull rough and grosse Spunne by that monster Sinne and weav'd by Shame Which grace it selfe disgrac'd with impure blame How canst thou choose faire Virgin then but mourne When this sweet of-spring of thy body dies When thy faire eies beholds his bodie torne The peoples sury heares the womens cries His holy name prophan'd He made a scorne Abusde with all their hatefull slaunderous lies Bleeding and fainting in such wondrous sort As scarce his feeble limbes can him support Now Simon of Cyrene passeth them by Whom they compell sweet IESVS Crosse to beare To Golgatha there doe they meane to trie All cruell meanes to worke in him dispaire That odious place where dead mens skulls did lie There must our Lord for present death prepare His sacred blood must grace that loathsome field To purge more filth than that foule place could yield Christs death ¶ For now arriu'd vnto this hatefull place In which his Crosse erected needes must bee False hearts and willing hands come on apace All prest to ill and all desire to see Gracelesse themselues still seeking to disgrace Bidding him If the Sonne of God he bee To saue himselfe if he could others saue With all th'opprobrious words that might depraue His harmelesse hands vnto the Crosse they nailde And feet that neuer trode in sinners trace Betweene two theeues vnpitied vnbewailde Saue of some few possessors of his grace With sharpest pangs and terrors thus appailde Sterne Death makes way that Life might giue him place His eyes with teares his