thee Alas we never saw thee Thou bidst us bee fruitfull and we be unprofitable thou commandest us to bee cleansed and wee be polluted when our eyes should be enlightned then our hearts are most darkened when we should be most washed then are we most defiled and when thou callest us to thee even then we fly from thee Wee lost our dignitie when our Father Adam lest his glory he breaking his League with Heaven left us his poore children nothing but our mother Earth who rocks us a while upon her idle knee of ignorance and then layes us to lullaby in eternall darkenesse Yet though wee have lost a Subjects loyalty thou hast not lost thy kingly dignity thou still retainest thy prerogative Royall yea Lord thou still hast power to command though we poore we have no ability to obey Oh that thou wouldst instead of commanding us compell us Oh thou that bidst us follow thee draw us and we shall run after thee Oh thou that commandest us to seeke thee shew thy selfe that wee may finde thee so though the world lies drowned in a sea of vanity yet we that follow thee shall live holily and dye happily forasmuch as our happinesse is wrapt up in heaven and dwells in the light of thy glory Now will I sing a Song to my welbeloved touching his Vineyard my welbeloved hath a Vineyard in a very fruitfull hill And he fenced it and gathered out the stones thereof and planted it with the choycest Vine and built a Tower in the midst of it and also made a Winepresse therein and he looked it should bring forth Grapes and it brought forth wilde Grapes Isa 5. v. 1 2. I. NO more Deluded England foole thy self no more But goe implore The heavens to ope thy dim and slumbring eyes No more Let blinde delusion keep thee shadowed ore And make thee soare Too high in wanton pleasures rarities Ah sin thou oft dost mix our sweets with soure Thou mak'st a Judgement in a short liv'd houre To blast the purest herb and crop the fairest flower II. Away Deluded England with thy workes away A new-borne Ray Begins to dawne and glorifie the aire Away Thou art discover'd poore can miry clay find power to pay Peace offrings no thou art more foule then faire The fig-tree brought forth leaves but we know who Did blast her is this all that thou canst doe Go vail thy Crown in dust lest thou be'st withred too III. Sit downe Ye glorious stars goe in the dust sit downe Whose glory shone Sometimes like Phoebus with his glittering traine Sit downe In silent sorrow goe and quench the frowne Of heaven thy Crowne Being vail'd then shalt thou wear the Crown again Why are we thus befool'd and do not cry To be transplanted Ah Reader thou and I Whose brach is withred here may soon lie down die IV. How soone Oh flouâ—ishing England didst thou swell how soon Thy fairest noone Was darkned o're and turn'd a glimmering day How soone Thou didst grow glorious prodigall and boone As the pale Moone In her blacke throne bids Phoebus flye away Oh it thou wilt have justice to reprieve thee If still thou wouldst have mercy to releive thee Trust not thy hollow self thy self wil but deceive thee V. Arise Oh then and ope thy unregenerate eyes How faire a prize Is there layd up in everlasting glorie Arise And be adorned in vertues rarities whose glory lies Drawne in the Records of this following story But if thy actions shall be still but vaine Led by the folly of a light haird braine Thou wilt be trampled down and withered ore again VI. Then shine For feare thy glimmering torch her light resigne And thou decline From thy first glory to a darkned shade Then shine Like Phoebus in the Equinoctiall line With fire divine Least thou art blasted and thy flower does sade So shalt thou flowrish in th' enlarged store Of wealth and Peace thy temples arched o're In a victorious Orb and war shall be no more The fift SOLILOQUIE A Gloomy Cloud may black the fairest Morne till Phoebus ariseth in his midday Majesty and with his glory cleares the darkned Aire when times black Daughter Night have wrapt her mantle about the virge of day and drowned the World in a forgotten dreame all things seeme alike to all the withered Weede the purest Herbe the comliest Blossome and the fairest flower But when the day starre appeares ushering in the morne and blushing Sol arises as from a bed of Roses whose burning Horses chafe up the Olympick hill and with their fiery fetlocks draw up the Golden Chariot of the day the World lyes then discovered Even thus the Gospel of our Lord Jesus haveing unmantled his glory from behinde a darkened cloud shining in full Majesty discovers the errours of our lower World but because time will bee too short to serve our turne and wee shall tyre the Readers eyes with too large a Soliloquie wee shall therefore looke upon but the latter part of our subject And first by the Vine wee can onely understand the Church of God and then our subject will lye as a stumbling block in the Readers way this seemes to bee strange say some that the Church of God should bee a fruitlesse Vine No this Vine beares pleasant fruit yet there are many worthlesse Branches that sprout among them bearing great show but little substance but when the wise Husbandman shall loppe them off the Branches that remaine shall sprout higher the fruit shall bee the sweeter and the Vine shall flourish the more And first wee shall endeavour to discover eight sorts of Branches that will bee cut from the Vine And they be these 1. The Adulterer 2. The Drunkard 3. The Robber 4. The Lyar. 5. The Sabboth-breaker 6. The Swearer 7. The Usurer 8. The Hypocrite First the Adulterer is a barren branch and shall bee cut off Thou Adulterer whose blood boyles in thy vaines and thy marrow is burnt in thy bones who art scorched in fire and sweltred in flames who swimmest in vanity and art drowned in a forgotten Dreame thy Morning is risen and thy Sunne hath aspired to the top of Noone-day thou seemest to ride upon the wings of Time commanding Pleasure as if shee were thy Captive Come wee will take a short survey of thy life which if the Scripture deceives us not is but the way to death For at the window of my house I looked through my casement and beheld among the simple ones I discerned among the youth a yong man void of understanding passing through the streete neere her corner and hee went the way to her house in the twilight in the evening in the blacke and darke night and behold there met him a woman with the attire of an Harlot and subtle of heart She is lowd and stubborne her feet abide not in her house Now is she without now in the streets and lieth in waite at every corner So she caught him and kissed him and with an
it and much good may it doe thee Thy wisedome is but a puffe of pride and the more learning thou hast the more mad thou art Therefore since there is no ability in man to gaine immortallity let this summon in the great and mighty men of the world let them sit under the shaddow of the Vine and eate his pleasant fruit Objection But it may be said this seemes to be false you talke all this while we see no glory in the Vineyard nor taste no sweetnesse in the Vine wherein is his fruit so pleasant Answer I will tell you in foure particulars First his fruit of humiliation that is pleasant fruit this will adorne thee with such amorons graces that thou shalt passe by the flurts of the World with a gallant scorne yet knowing sinne to bee the Authour of thy shame thou shalt often inbalme thy selfe in teares Secondly his fruits of meekenesse that is pleasant fruit thy crooked nature now it may bee admits of no second but thy sword thou art now but a word and a blow thy heart is like a tinder box the least sparke of envy will burne to a mighty flame but then thou shalt stand as a marble pillar immovable the envy of thine enemies shall not trouble thee the frownes of thy friends shall not startle thee the principalities of hel shal not have power to shake thee the worlds disdaine shall be thy dignity their infamy thy glory their hate shal inflame thy fire of love and their reproaches shal fil thy mouth with praises nor wilt thou regard the most grievous paine while thou art running to so glorious a prize Thirdly this fruit of love is very pleasant fruit all the mountaines of misery thou sufferest when they are drowned in the Sea of love will appeare but like Attomes in the Aire when love shal cover thee under the shaddow of his wings when thou shalt see how deare thou art in heavens eyes that he did not onely give Ethiopia but his owne life to the Father for thee what wouldest thou not endure for the love of such a Saviour does he suffer hell to pursue thee it is because thou shouldest presse forward to heaven which is set before thee is thy journey tedious in the beginning it is because thou shouldst long to be at thy journeys end and wilt thou not run when thy Race is onely to life and thy companion love and wilt thou not despise any worldly losse when thou shalt be treble sharer in eternal glory and inherit immortall gaine Fourthly his fruits of patience and perseverance are pleasant fruit now a few discouragements will daunt thee then thou shalt be willing to undergoe a thousand dangers every day now if thou receivest not what thou didst aske thou art ready to give over asking if God openeth not at the first thou art ready to give over knocking and if thou findest not what thou didst seek thou art soone perswaded to give over seeking But then thou shalt wait with as much patience as the poore watchman that stands upon the Tower expecting the dawning of the day till the panting horses of time have finisht their journey and ended their tired task then shalt thou receive the fruit of thy faith and Heaven shall crowne thy labours of love with undisturbed rest Awake then Oh North winde and come thou South let the Inhabitants draw neare let them come into our garden let them taste the fruit of Faith let them bee drunke with the Wine of love Eate O friends drinke yea drinke abundantly O beloved Canticles 5. verse 1. Come take his fruit of Justification that justice may not condemn thee take his fruit of Redemption that hell may not devoure thee take his fruit of sanctification that sinne may not deceive thee take his fruit of glorification that happinesse may crowne thee Art thou hungry Hee is food to suffice thee Art thou thirsty Hee is water to refresh thee Art thou naked Hee is a garment to cloath thee Art thou cold Hee is a fire to warme thee Art thou scorched with heate Hee is a Rock to shelter thee Art thou in sicknesse Hee is a Doctour to heale thee Art thou alone Hee is a friend will not forsake thee Art thou in danger His arme shall protect thee Does the plague walke in darkenesse Hee is a chamber to hide thee does the arrowes of the Almighty flye at noone day his wings shall overshadow thee Art thou poore Hee hath layd up treasure to inrich thee Art thou disgraced Hee will Crowne thee with a Crowne of Glory And now Reader mayest thou imbalme the Booke in teares if thou considerest the misery of man and how the World does lye befooled What horrid Earthquake is this that shakes the foundation of our troubled World What black cloud hath overspread our Universe and begins to murmure in our whispering aire eclipsing the light of Divinity extinguishing the Lamps of purity and endeavouring to darken the sonne of glory making poore ignorant mortalls gâ—ope all their lives time in the darke and yet shall never finde the doore How happy are those priety babes who with a little flood of teares be waileing the misery of mortallity dye in their slumbring Nurses armees Sure it were happy for the wicked if they measured but a short lived houre betweene the Wombe and the Grave for not being found in the Vneyard they shall have no share in the Vine and bearing no fruit as the Corne they shall bee burned with the Chaffe But thou for a few evills on earth shalt bee rewarded in Heaven thou shalt set thy foot upon the Adder and tread upon the yong Lyon for thou shalt bee hid in the secret places of the Almighty and under the shaddow of the wings of the most high thou shalt bee free from the dominion of sinne and thou shalt conquer Sathan thou shalt overcome Principalities and Powers and thou shalt gaine by life and death And hee whose undiscovered actions are too deepe for our dim eyes shall beare thee on his wings through deaths darke Groves and lift thee to life eternall while the wicked that now does flourish like a greene Bay shall perish ere long like a blowne off blossome and hee that is a shining flash shall wither like a dying Flower All flesh is as grasse and all the glory of man as the flowre of grasse 1 Pet. 1. v. 24. Man STay Phoebus stay Oh wherefore dost thou run So fast the shades will come too soone Hold in hold in thy horses their nostrills boyle In flames Oh let them rest a while Stop thy bright Chariot wheeles and guild the day In glorious pride why dost thou haste away Into the western world stay gentle Phoebus stay Phoebus Jove lend me a breath of thunder that my flashes May mingle terrour with my lashes My pampred horses linger out the day I surfeit with too long delay Fond man thou fear'st to die and oft dost groane To live and blamest onely time alone
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
a distracted dreame while all your golden imaginations vanish into aire What is the silver Mine what is the golden Ore what is the worlds dignity what is beauties rarity what is the pride of pleasure what is a blast of honour the first is vexation the second delusion the third a distraction the fourth brings the worldling to a fooles paradice and hee that hath the last is but a glorious slave Mee thinkes as when the Gyants warred against heaven and with their imperious lookes threatned the Palace of Olimpick Jove till from his golden sphere hee lasht their folly and puft out their bravery by hurling against their mountaines hasty thunderbolts from his angry arme even so the worlds Peacocks children of transgression sonnes of Rebellion the pride of nature and the scorne of art befooled in folly besotted in security sinne in dispite of heaven till with his angry breath hee sweepes them from the world laying their glory groveling in the silent grave Poore heaven borne soule no winde blowes faire for thee but all thy life is a continued ill thou art borne in a tempest and art hurryed through a storme while thou wandrest through this vale of teares and while thou saylest through this red sea of sorrow so have I seene a weather-beaten vessell torne by the fury of the surges tost from wave to wave by the confused mellody of threatning scas roaring windes fiery flashes horrid thunder and the darkened ayre continually in restlesse motion sometimes by an angry billow flung up to heaven and in a moment plunging downe againe seemes to bee swallowed in the furious Ocean as if nature to set forth the rarity of union who would shew to man the harmony of confused elements Art thou a child of heaven thou shalt bee then a sonne of sorrow thinke not too much to suffer if thou makest account to Reigne if thou wilt have a Crowne of Royalty be patient in suffring adversity The way to heaven is through a fiery Lake thy treasure shal be torment thy wealth shall be want thy portion poverty thy beauty deformity Thy adoption fore-runs thy extremity and thy conversion is a Prologue to a following Tragedy The World indeed is full of deceit nor will she favour any but her owne and on them she confers pleasures and profits honour preferment beauty glory wealth and case She sets them on her idle knee and charmes the Worldling to a glorious slumber While the godly sits all day dispised disgrac'd afflicted tormented with his watry eyes bent on the Earth and his silent groanes piercing heaven the unfrequented places are his delight and the melancholliest passions are his best musique In which the poore soule mutters to himself these or the like speeches SOULE Ah me how am I hurried to and fro in the valley of this shaddow of death how am I tossed from misery to adversity from trouble to torment from temptation to affliction my life is almost spent and what will the Lord do with mee if hee doe with me what he please if he throw mee into hell I will lay my hand upon my mouth and be silent for ever for I have been unthankfull unholy unfruitfull unprofitable discourtious disloyall ungratious rebellious But will the Lord be angry for ever and hath hee forgotten to bee gracious or is his loving kindnesse quite decayed My Lord Jesus Christ he is gone to Heaven where he is crowned in Majesty and glory and every day he takes one or another after him And heere he leaves me to feede on Wormewood and drinke the poyson of Aspes Alas poor soule what findest thou what knowest thou what seest thou in this vaine world is not her beauty momentany and all her glory transitory Why was I borne to be an object of cruelty a Map of misery the mockery of Art the scorne of nature or being borne why died I not in my sad mothers arms Well soule lament no more wait but a while and thy sorrow shall be converted into joy thy mourning into praising thy emptinesse into fullnesse thy low poverty into high dignity thy short suffering of the worlds hate to the embraces of eternall love thy time to eternity thy misery into glory Alas the joy of the wicked is as the thornes in the fire the bubble in the water the flowers in the earth the Clouds in the Aire they blaze and consume they flourish and fade they vanish and fly away but thou for a few angry frownes shalt have everlasting joyes for earths indignity shalt weare the Robes of Royalty and for a moments heavinesse shalt be crowned in eternall happinesse Though here thou walkest sadly and drivest on heavily piercing the aire with thy sighes and watering thy cheeks with thy teares mourning and weeping for the absence of thy beloved when he hath withdrawne himselfe and is gone Yet hold up thy head with joy for thy redemption draweth neare Thou shalt meet him in Elisium and arme in arme walke through the hallowed Courts and change a thousand kisses canst thou not tarry a little time canst thou not persevere a minute canst thou not suffer a moment canst thou not watch one houre would it not bee worth thy paines if after all thy troubles on earth to arive at heaven there the poore Pilgrimme may rest his tyred limbes in the sweet lullabies of ever blessed eternity where there is joy without sorrow health without sicknesse wealth without want fulnesse without famine love without labour life without death Arise my Love my Dove my faire one and come away Canticles 2. vers 13. The AUTHOR I. GOe tired Mariner go hoyst up sayle The weather will no more be contrary The winde blowes prosperous with a pleasant Gale The angry aire ne more will vary The heavens are faire thy journey cannot faile Vp weather-heaten Voyager why dost tarry Where safer O! where safer canst thou be Then in so sweet an arme soule this is he Whose power uncurls the wav's calms the furious sea CHRIST II. Rise Phoeb and come away the head-strong day Rides in his glorious Orb the night is gone The slowers appeare the little Lambes doe play And glittering Sol does kisse the torrid zone The carelesse wandring flocks are gone astray Vpon the hills and love is lest alone Come lye in my soft bosome where no feare Can break thy dreame why doest thou flumber here Awake my purest Love arise my fairest Deare III. Rise Phoeb ' and come away this Sun-shine morn We 'le travell through the fairest teritories Where in some flowry Garden I 'le adorne Thy brow with love I 'le tell thee what those glories Are that crown eternity I will not scorne To tell my suffrings and my passion stories Let me infold thee in my loving armes If thou wilt rest secure from numerous harmes Arise my fairest dear love strikes his lowd alarms IV. Rise Phoeb ' and come away how sweet a smell Comes from th' Arabian hills my pritty Love The little birds warble their musique
impudent face said unto him I have peace offerings with me this day have I payd my vowes Therefore came I forth to meet thee diligently to seek thy face and I have found thee I have deckt my bed with coverings of Tapestry with carved workes with fine linnen of Egypt I have perfumed my bed with myrrhe aloes and cynamen Come let us take our fill of love untill the morning let us solace our selves with loves For the good man is not at home he is gone a long journey Proverbs 7. vers 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19. But what is she end of all this if we look on the end of the chapter we shall see the end of the Adulterer Her house is the way to hell going down to the chambers of death verse 27. Thou dost not dreame thou shalt be blasted I tell thee ere long thou shalt be lopt off and flung into eternity I grant thou hast aspired to the top of thy Olympick Palace but thou shalt shortly fall thy life hath beene at best but a Tragicomedy and thou hast acted the fools part with pleasure but I tell thee death ere long shall strike the Epilogue and thou shalt goe away Secondly the Drunkard is a barren Branch Woe to the crowne of pride to the drunkards of Ephraim whose glorious beauty is a fading flowre which are on the head of the fat valleyes of them that are overcome with Wine Isaiah 28. vers 1. Thou Drunkard that carowsest care away and on thy Ale-bench blasphemest the God of Heaven that takest no felicity but in swinish company and knowest no other happines but the colour of the wine thou burdenest the earth thou inflamest the fire thou infectest the aire thou art as a flowre drowned with the dew of Heaven and bowest thy glory to the earth goe drunkard take thy fill of Wine untill the morning but I tell thee the houre is comming when it may be the hand of Heaven shall write thy doom upon the plaister of the wall Daniell 5.25 26. ere long thou mayst Read MENE MENE TEKEL UPHARSIN God hath numbred thy dayes and finisht them and being found too light thy glory is departed from thee then shall thy loynes be loosed thy countenance changed and thy false heart affrighted thou that drinkest iniquity like water I tell thee ere long thou shalt wash thy selfe away thy fruit is already withered and thou shalt be lopt from the Vine Thirdly the Robber is a barren Branch Leviticus 19. vers 11. Thou that by the Art of Leger-de-maine adoptest every mans goods thine owne I know thou wouldst have joy without sorrow wealth without want fruit without faith and life without death but remember the pitcher at last comes broken home There is a way seemes right in the eyes of man but the end thereof is the path of death Proverbs 14. vers 12. What though thou hast wheel'd off fairly once or twice or thrice yet thou shalt shortly fall Agememnon after all his 10 yeares wars at Troy was slain in one night among his freinds at Greece The valiant Hector whose temples were so often archt in a victorious Orbe while he was quitting his Countrey with gallantry and affronting his enemies in the height of bravery received in a moment the Embassage of death and upon the ground measured out his grave The mighty Achilles whose arme seemed a Postilion of death was slaine at last by a little winged Arrow and sent to his long home Tell me thou that canst draw thy sword and bid defiance upon the high way to truth and fidelity where lies thy brother Caine or Akan or Judas or Ahab does not their glory grovill in the ground or are they not sweltring in eternall flames It may be thou hast endured many a blast but there may come a blast ere long that may puffe thee quite away Thou that art acquainted with the Law so well that thou canst sometimes confute the Reverend Judges and yet performest never a tittle thereof believe mee thou canst not plead with death hee will come with a Habeas corpus and remove thee to eternity Forasmuch as thou art found unfruitfull in the Vineyard thou shalt be cut from the Vine and have thy portion in that lake of terrour where time shall be no more Fourthly the lyar is a barren Branch Leviticus 19. vers 11. Why boastest thou thy selfe in mischiefe O mighty man the goodnesse of God endureth continually Thy tongue deviseth mischiefes like a sharpe rasor working deceitfully Thou lovest evill more then good and lying rather then to speake righteousnesse Selah Thou lovest all devouring words O thou deceitfull tongue God shall likewise destroy thee for ever he shall take thee away and pluck thee out of thy dwelling place and root thee out of the Land of the living Psalme 52 vers 1 2 3 4 5. Thou that so oft dost call the God of heaven who is truth it selfe to witnesse to a lie tell me thou sordid peece of earth canst thou blinde the eies of heaven or canst thou draw a curtaine before the face of the most high does not his eie see thee does not his eare heare thee does not his heart ponder thy waies tell me is he excluded any where that can be comprehended no where if thou goest to heaven he is there if downe to hell he is there if thou take the wings of the morning and flye to the uttermost parts of the earth from thence the hand of God shall find thee out Come thou lyar Read the story of Ananias and Sapphira Acts 5. vers 1 2 3 4 5 5 7 8 9 10. The tree withers soone away that is perisht at the Root and thou shalt shortly fall who art rotten at the heart Alas thou art nothing but a walking shaddow a guilded peece of aire whose wealth is but poverty whose bravery but vanity whose truth infidelity and thou shalt ere long be â—hut out of eternity Revelation 22. vers 15. thy present tense ere long shal be made a preterimperâ—ectense and it shall shortly be said of thee he was and is not yet a little while and thou shalt be no more but shalt fade as the withering grasse and wither as the dying flowre Fifthly the Sabbath breaker is a barren Branch Ye shall keep my Sabbath therefore for it is holy unto you every one that breaketh it shall be cut off from among his people for whosoever doth any worke therein that soule shall surely be put to death Six dayes may worke be done but the seventh day is the Sabbath of rest holy to the Lord whosoever doth any worke therein shall surely be put to death Wherefore the Children of Israell shall keep the Sabbath to observe the Sabbath throughout their generations for a perpetuall memory It is a Covenant between me and the Children of Israeâ— for ever for in six dayes the Lord made heaven and earth and on the seventh day he rested and was refreshed Exod.
31. vers 13 14 15 16 17. Come thou prophane Sabbath breaker thou findest fault of the shortnesse of thy time I tell thee ere long thy time shall be cut away the candle thou now dost waste in pleasure thou wilt hereafter begge to spend in prayer what thou wretch if thy God had required six dayes in the weeke to sanctifie his name and celebrate his praise how wouldest thou have done that if thou canst not give him one in seven Goe sordid earth imbalme thy self in tears thou knowest not what felicity the godly take in this dayes progresse while they travell through the coelestiall Groves and while they wander through the faire Elizium walkes aspiring beyond the reach of this unworthy earth to change their hourely entercourse of love with Heaven whose service is perfect freedome redemption from slavery and a path way to glory every dayes progresse sends thee nearer to eternity and thou makest but a few Sabbath dayes journey towards Heaven why tell me whither doest thou wander Is it because there is no God in Israel that thou servest the god of Ekron or because thou hast dined on earth wilt thou now goe sup in hell away blind man thou runnest to thy ruine retire a while to thy forgotten selfe and reckon how fast thy winged houres flie away Ah Lord thy Sabbaths in former ages have been celebrated to thy praise when thy people spake often one to another to thy glory when the morning starres sang together and all the sonnes of God shouted for joy thy Saints in former ages upon thy holy day have met to offer up their perfumed oblations and dayly sacrifices to thee who dwellest between the Cherubins but now the beauty of Israell is gone from the high places Oh how are the mighty falne tell mee thou wretch that sayest when will the Sabbath be over that we may sell our Corne and Wine and Oyle that we may put on our gallant apparrell and heape up bags of gold what gaine is in riches what beauty in bravery what profit in pleasure what glory in honour thy riches are but poverty thy beauty deformity thy pleasure a penalty thine honour slavery therefore foole thy selfe no more by omitting thy duty and robbing heaven of his glory lest thou beest strucke with leaprosie like Miriam lest thou beest swallowed up like Corah Dathan and Abiram lest thou art consumed with fire like the sonnes of Aron lest thou hast a shower of stones like Akan or art shot with an arrow from heaven like Julian lest thou beest lopt from the Vine and cut from the earth and shut out of Heaven and flung into Hell lest thy possession be made a desolation and thy memory perish from the earth for want of a memory Sixthly the swearer is a barren Branch Ye shall not sweare by my Name falsly neither shalt thou prophane the name of thy God I am the Lord. Levit. 19. vers 12. Thou prophane Wretch that with thy breath infectest the aire and with thy body burdenest the earth and with thy heart dost blaspheme heaven what became of the prophane Rabshekah or the blasphemous Senacherib that with their tongues sounded such thunderclaps in fearefull Israells ears but when their lips upbraided the God of Heaven how soon did he bow their proud imperious necks and layd their glory groveling in the ground thou black mouth'd swearer that with a flash of Oathes doest exalt thy selfe to Heaven I tell thee ere long thou shalt be spurned downe to Hell thy life seemes yet a merry Comedy but thou knowest not how soone thou shalt speake the last sceane which being done thou shalt exit to the attiring roome of earth and undresse thee in the silent grave thou foule mouth'd swearer thou faine wouldst be accounted a Christian yet livest more deboyster then the Heathen Come if thou art a Christian trye thy Copy by thy Saviours President and see how thou obeyest his command But I say unto you sweare not at all neither by Heaven for it is Gods throne nor by earth for it is his footstoole nether by Hierusalem for it is she City of the great King Neither shalt thou sweare by thy head because thou canst not make one haire white or blacke But let your communication be Yea yea Nay nay for whatsoever is more then these commeth of evill Matthew 5. vers 34 35 36 37. Poore man thou art so far from dishonouring thy God by this that by thy Ruine he will purchase himselfe glory as the Traveller that spits against the winde hath it blowne in his face so thou that with thy breath blasphemest heaven blowest but the fire of Hell which shall torment thee to eternity thou that doest waste thy time in trifles and thy dayes in a dreame thou art at the best but a piece of perjury and a flash of vanity that walkest by the light of thine owne fire and the sparkes thou hast kindled This is the portion thou shalt have from the hand of Heaven thou shalt lie downe in sorrow Seventhly the covetous man is a barren Branch and shall be cut from the Vine What 's hee that so prophanes all purity and scornes the power that others doe adore that curseth his Tapour for burning so fast his provision for spending too soone his houres for flying too swift and his purse for filling too slow Thou groveling worldling that Viper-like doest teare thy Mothers wombe and off rest sacrifice to the god of gold that art as pollitick as Achitophell as proud as painted Jezebell as churlish as Naball as swift as Asahell hadst thou the pollicy of Vlysses the strength of Hercules the beauty of Adonis the wealth of great Nilus or the gold of rich Tagus thou art but a house of clay and thy foundation is in the Dust Neverthelesse man being in honour abideth not he is like the beasts that perish Psalme 49. verse 12. The time is comming when delicates shall not be delightfull life shall not be desirable pleasure shall be painefull Riches unprofitable death unavoydable and eternity most terrible when thou shalt finde evidences enough for earth but no assurance for Heaven then it may be thou wouldst give ten thousand pounds for a share in Jesus Christ but Jesus Christ makes no such bargaine Dives had not been in Hell if his money would have purchast heaven but then thy Riches shall take to themselves wings and flye away thou knowest not how soone thou mayest come to thy journeyes end when thou shalt bee deposed from thy glory like Nebuchadnezar Dan. 4 30. or slaine in the midst of thy gold and mirth like drunken Belshazzer or lye in the cold like poore Lazarus or bee kickt into Hell like rich Dives go view the Monuments of thy Fathers where lyes the Crowne of Shyhon King of the Amorices and Ogge the King of Bashan Where bee the Perizites the Jebusites or the Children of the East or Zeba or Zelmunna Where is the Tower of Babylon the sometimes glorious Caanan the
wavering Aegyptians the warlick Philistines Doe not they sleepe in the dust Thou knowest not how soone thou mayest bee gathered to thy Fathers The Earth in the Spring time puts on her mantle of greene to entertaine her Lover Phoebus but when the golden Chariot of the Sunne is fled to the Southerne World the Earth puts on her mourning withered weede the Moone shines fairely for some certaine nights but when time hath turned her from her silver throne shee resignes her glory to the following day The blazing candle for a time shines cleare but having past the age of a short lived houre it glimmers a while and dyes the glorious Lilly that is drest in such bravery is in a day disroabed of its glory and turned to withered Hay there is no such thing as a continuance heere though thou flourâ—â—◠〈◊〉 〈◊〉 greene Bay-tree yet thou shalt perish like a withered weede For evill doers shall bee cut off but those that waite upon the Lord they shall inherite the Earth For yet a little while and the wicked shall not bee yea thou shalt diligently consider his place and it shall not be Ps 37. v. 9.10 Eightly the hypocrite is a barren branch Go march among thy fellowes painted earth and then sometimes retreate and yet march on againe thou lookest indeede to Heaven but thou travellest to Hell Go on yet know false Absolon 't is not thy beauty that can save thee no Judas 't is not a dissembling kisse shall secure thee no Simon Magus 't is not thy money shall redeeme thee thou art as various as the windes as dissembling as the seas as deceitfull as the grave as darke as hell as vile as villany as gracelesse as impurity and as black as horrour can see it selfe in the blackest glasse Thou washest thy hands indeed but thy heart is defiled thou trimmest thy body but thy soule is deformed honey indeede is in thy lips but thy tongue is poysoned well foole thy selfe no more though thou doest blinde the World thou canst not hide thy selfe from Heaven Psalm 94.8.9.10 Hee that planted the eare shall hee not heare Hee that formed the eye shall hee not see Oh yee fooles when will yee bee wise Hee that teacheth man knowledge shall hee not know Though thou hast the speech of Jacob thou hast the hands of Esau thou hast the devotion of Abel but the dissimulation of Achitophel the mantle of Elias but the hypocrisie of Judas thou hast fidelity in thy wordes but impurity in thy deeds a heaven in thy mouth but a hell in thy heart and though thou do'st prosper while blinded man adores thee yet thou shalt perish when God shall come to judge thee It is not thy smooth language nor thy Syrean tongue can take in Heavens eares no 't is not a painted face nor a garment of gold that dazeleth Christs eyes that did delude the yong man that Solomon entitles foole Prov. 7 vers 8. 'T is thy heart that God pondereth and as the Sunne of Heaven will show thee the foulenesse of the house so the Sonne of glory with his all descerning eye will soone discover the blacknesse of the heart though to the world thou seemest a piece of purity a flash of fidelity a gloriou star a glittring spheare yet to Heavens eye thou wilt appeare but an Heire of Hell a childe of darkenesse a servant of sinne a sonne of shame and thou that hast so often deluded others in thy life shalt deceive thy self at thy death and thy departing soule shall but exchange misery for mortallity though by thy actions the deluded world shall thinke thou art transported into glory And shall our story have a period heere And shall wee vaile our subject with a blanck Shall wee present to the Reader the black and darke night and draw a Curtaine before the shining day Shall wee discover the barren branches that are in the Vineyard and wrap a black cloud about the lofty flourisht Vine No though many have the marke of the Beast yet some are loyall to the Lambe though there bee thousands doe bow their knees to Baall Yet there is a remnant doe humble their hearts to heaven though there bee a seed of falling Adam yet there is a generation of faithfull Abraham though many are not Israelits yet all are not Sodomites among the thousands that shall perish there is a remnant that shall flourish whose united beauty shall make one glorious body And this is shee that looketh forth as the Morning faire as the Moone cleare as the Sunne terrible as an Army with Banners Cantie 6. vers 10. whose heroicke heads looke higher then this inferior World who are not drowned in the dirt of earth but watered with the dew of Heaven who are not branches of infamy but clusters layd up to inherite glory And indeed believerâ— you have done well while you have made so faire a choyce though you suffer here a little paine hereafter you shall have endlesse pleasure though ye have had a time of heavinesse ye shall have heereafter eternall happynesse though ye have had tokens of infamy yee shall bee adorned with Robes of glory though you have beene acquainted with the terrour of the Crosse yee shall bee required with the glory of the Crowne Alas how momentany are the pleasures of the World What is heere to bee desired Nay rather what is there not heere that may well be quickly loathed Is it honour That is but a blast that will deceive thee Is it dignity That is but a dreame that will delude thee Is it beauty That is but a shaddow that will inslave thee Is it credit That is but flattery that will befoole thee Is it wealth That will take wings and quickly flye from thee Come then let us get up early in the Vineyards Let us see if the Vine flourish if the tender Grapes appeare or the Pomgranats bud forth Can. 2. I am sure if the hand that planted you did not protect you your fruit would bee blasted and your blossome would bee withered How soone would your honour turne to disgrace your credit to shame your beauty into vanity your affection to delusion your winde of wealth to a weather-cock of woe your full sea of plenty to an ebbing tide of poverty Did not the Vine flourish How soone would you poore branches perish Did not the head finde power to stand how soone would you the weaker members fall I thinke the World can better subsist without the Sunne then you without a Saviour if the Sunne were gone would not the forsaken Universe put on a mantle of mourning Would not the World returne to her first confused Chaos Would not all our Chariot wheeles drive on heavily Would not our actions prosper slowly The Philosophers say wee are beholding to the Sunne for all secondary causes and Divines affirme wee are ingaged to our Saviour for his secret cares while you bring forth the fruits of the spirit which is not Rebellion but Humiliation not expressions
but Actions not Chaffe but Wheate not Pibbles but Pearles not Leaves but Fruit not Drosse but Gold I meane Unity Fidelity Meekenesse long suffering Patience and Perseverance ye shall have a shield to save you a chamber to hide you an arme to protect you a Fountaine to coole you and a Rock to over-shaddow shaddow you and a Pillar of fire to guide you while you travell through the vally of the shaddow of death and while you are sayling through the red sea of sorrow In that day sing yee unto her A Vineyard of red Wine I the Lord doe keepe it I will water it every morning lest any hurt it I will keepe it night and day Isa 27. v. 2 3. Thus were you not protected alas how soone would you bee destroyed How weake would bee your strength How strong your weakenesse How soone would your persons bee abused your sence deceived your wills corrupted your apprehensions deluded your constancy contemned and your fidelity befooled But now had I a quill snatcht from the lofty Eagles wings or were my inke distilled from Gold had I the Curiosity of Cleo the Learning of Plato the Poetry of Apollo the Eloquence of Cicero or the Love of Queene Dido I should rather darken their Dignity then illustrate their Royalty I thinke Readers I must deceive you all and â—hut the Booke and make an end of my subject For hee that will speake of the worth of a Picture must himselfe bee a Painter so hee that will discourse of the Saints dignity must himselfe bee wrapt first in the Pallace of high glory this onely may suffice they shall have wealth without want puâ—ity without perjury health without sicknesse wisdome without folly life without mortallity there shall they have eternity for time gloâ—y for indignity a Crowne for a Crosse and a Kingdome with a Crowne But since the heart is too narrow to conceive it it is unlawfull for the tongue to utter it 2 Cor. 12. ver 4. Thus are wee forced to draw a Curtaine about our subject and hide our glorious sceane and because wee dare not speake of such a price silence shall now bee the Epilogue of the Play How lovely lookt the Sonne of Glory in our terestiall spheare earth was too unworthy to bee possest of such a glorious guest how powerfull was that tongue that with a short command could dispossesse the divel make his enemies in a moment drop downe and dye that could give feete to the lame eyes to the blinde health to the sick salvation to sinners and life to death How did his lips out passe the sweete lipt orator while in sundry places hee poured forth the sweetest words that Art or Love could frame enough to melt the beholders hearts and charme the hearers eares How full of sweetnesse is that bosome that was wounded with a speare I thinke Love lay there intomb'd having power enough to bring the lost soule to seeke for sanctuary in his circled armes how full of comlinesse was that face that so often was hit with the blowes of scorne and flurts of disdaine that head the fountaine of knowledge that was crowned with the thornes had power enough by wisedome to controle the world How full of Majesty were those faire eyes that so often were drowned in silent teares Had the ungratefull world no better entertainment for so Royall a babe but must mantle him in a Manger and from his Cradle hurry him to his Crosse Ah man how obdurate was thy heart to him that was as kinde as heaven well mayest thou cast dust on thy head since thou art so foule in thy heart goe weep thy selfe away goe goe be sad all mortalls let your downe east eyes present a silent sorrow let your dayes be as darke as the silent grave as when the eclipsed Sunne leaves the world in a mist or the angry aire covers heavens glory in a sable Cloud let every mortall mourn and be like a monument cut out of marble But is it so that Jesus Christ is the Vine and that so many of the branches shall be cut off then our subject sounds an alarum in the eares of all mortals and bids the Inhabitants of the world looke about them Is it so that none but the ingrafted Members shall stand and the others fall then this tels us that your condition is not so good as you imagine If those that seeme to be Members shall be cut away what shall be done to them that are enemies to the body if some of the branches shall fall that grow on the Vine what shall become of them that come not neare the Vineyard How hath the Prince of darknesse besotted all Mortalls how is poore man befooled perhaps thou measurest by another man and thou art higher by the head and shoulders and thou thinkest God must love thee because of thy person King Saul was higher then all his brethren yet little David was advanced to the Crowne and he was flung from the Throne Perhaps thou art a Scholar and for thy wisedome and learning thou thinkest God must love thee and thou must needs be a branch in the Vine I tell thee thy wit is but like a sharpe Rasor when God shall come and set thy wit to gnaw on thy accused Conscience Oh the anguish of thy soule in that day there is no such torment as a sharpe with will inflict upon it selfe Perhaps thou art a rich man and thou thinkest God must needs love thee because of thy Riches and ingraft thee in the Vine no I tell thee Jesus Christ can passe by all the Kings Courts and the Princes Palaces and enter in the house of poore Martha and be a companion for Lazarus that had nothing to entertaine him If Christ had been taken with gold he could have planted his Vineyard among the Indies where his Temple might have been all dawbed with gold Perhaps thou art beautifull and thou thinkest Heaven must love thee because thou art lovely Beleeve me that will wither away when sicknesse with her afly hand shall sweep off thy colour thou shalt resemble earth though thou art like Jezebell death will pluck thy feathers and thou shalt be banisht to the Grave and call the worme thy sister and thy Brother Therefore if thou hast any excellency in thee or parts it is but cumbred stuffe and the harder it is to pull thee into heaven God must be faine to take more paines with thee then with a poore creature that hath nothing to boast of every externall part thou hast is but a block to lye in thy way and thou must leave them behinde thee or thou wilt never crowd through the straight Gate Thy table that 's a snare to thee while sometimes thou eatest more then does thee good Thy gold that 's a snare to thee while thou settest thy heart upon it and forgettest Heaven Thy portly body thou mayst boast of it well enough it may be it is all thou art like to enjoy make much of
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