on their prey do fasten So would they flock about me Or if I Could learn the art of popularity I might be rich in friends yet all my store Would not know how to keep Death out of doore Meditation 1. OF Proteus 't is fained that he could Transform himself to any kind of shape Into a Dove or Lamb and when he would Into a Tiger Lion Bear or Ape Or a Mountain Rock or Spring Or Earth Water Fire Air Into any forms that are Stampt in any kind of thing And Aristippus could exactly flatter He had the art of winning gainfull friends And that his fortune might be made the fatter Had all behaviours at his fingers ends He could grene when 's friend was sickly And could weep when he was sad Any humour good or bad Did become him very quickly Did I believe that metempsychosis Pythagoras did dream of I should swear That Proteus ghost to this day neither is In hell nor yet in heaven but doth wear Now a body and the base Ghost of Aristippus dwells In a thousand bodies else How could thousands have the face To personate so many humours act So many parts at once and balk no sinne Yea perpetrate with ease the basâ—st fact That hell e'r punished to wind them in to great friendshâ—ps though they misse Heavens favour all the while Dreaming that a great mans smile Is on earth the onely blisse And yet when that last enemie shall come And grind their aching bones with griping throes To bring their bodies to their longest home There 's not a man 'mongst all their friends that know How to take away their pain In comes ghastly Death among The midst of that friendly throng And turns them to dust again Meditation 2. THere 's none among the sacred troup of Saints Yet militant below but doth desire Gods favour most and most of all lamenâ—s When it is lost and alway sets a higher Estimate upon the rayes That are darted from above By the God of peace and love Then on all he here enjoyes Ne'r doth the chased hart in hottest weather When horse and hound pursue him o'r the plains And hunt him sweating twentie miles together That all his bloud is boil'd within his veins When he 's to the hardest driven Pant so much for water-brooks As a soul deserted looks For a kind aspect from heav'n Once did Elias zealous prayers climb To heav'n and made the windows there so fast This came to passe in wicked Ahabs time That one and twentie months twice told were past E'r there fell a showre of rain Or a drop of morning dew In the meadows nothing grew Nor was any kind of grain Fed by the parched mold How do ye think That thirstie drie and barren land did yawn And gape to heav'n-ward for a draught of drink Just so whene'r Gods favour is withdrawn From a soul it doth distresse her Ne'r earth thirsted more for rain Then doth she for God again To relieve her and refresh her Have you not seen a mothers wofull tears Embalm the carcase of her onely sonne How to all comfort she stops both her eares Wrings both her hands and makes a bitter moan Fain in sorrow would she swim Or be drown'd it is so deep She hath heart enough to weep Heaven full up to the brim But this is nothing to that matchlesse anguish That breaks in pieces ev'rie pious heart And makes the soul with darkest sadnesse languish If from 't a sense of Gods good will depart O how strangely David's troubled When God hid away his face Though but for a little space See how his complaints are doubled How long for ever Lord wilt thou forget me How long wilt thou thy gratious visage hide How long be angrie wilt thou never let me Enjoy thy face again shall I abide Thus for evermore bereft Of all comfort joy and peace Shall my soul ne'r dwell at ease Hast thou Lord no mercy left O once again be pleas'd to turn and give My soul a relish of thy wonted grace There 's nothing can my sadded heart relieve If thou dost hide thy comfortable face Thou in tears thy servant drown'st Thou dost fill my cheâ—ks with furrows And my soul with ghastly sorrows Whensoever Lord thou frown'st The world doth value at a precious rate Things here below Some highly prize their sport Some jewels some a plentifull estate And some preferments in a Princes court But for life we so esteem it Above whatsoe'r is best That with losse of all the rest We are ready to redeem it But none of these Gods children do regard So much as Gods love by a thousand parts Feel they but this to 〈◊〉 't is spar'd The best and highest room in all their hearts They 〈◊〉 no wordly pelf In comparison of this Kindnesse yea to them it is Better faâ—re then life it self Have they no reason for this eager thirst After Gods love and friendship sure they see Gods favour and his kindnesse is the first And chiefest good all other friendships be Most deceitfull trustlesse rain When the pangs of Death do scise us Mortall favours cannot ease us God can rid us of our pain But grant he do not yet these pains shall send Our souls to him that loves us to enjoy A painlesse life that ne'r shall see an end He whom God loves can on a death-bed say I know my Redeemeâ— liveth For me there 's laid up a crown When this clay-built house is down God a better mansion giveth I 'll never woo the smile of man whose breath Is in his nostrils by sinister wayes 'T will not advantage at the houre of Death All my supportment on these carnall stayes At the length will but deceive me 'T is to have a friend above 'T is Gods favour and his love Or else nothing must relieve me Lord make thy graces in my soul appear My heart from ev'rie lothsome blemish cleanse That I may clearly see thine image there For that 's an undeceived evidence Of thy favour which when I Once am certain to obtein I 'll not faint for any pain Nor will care how soon I die Sect. 5. Youth cannot protect us from the stroke of Death A Young man may die but an old man must This may die quickly that cannot live long Often are graves fill'd full with youthfull dust Though youth be jocund lustie merrie strong Yet is it subject unto Death-bed-pains 'T is mortall bloud that runnes along their veins In all appearance old mens halting feet are Mov'd to the grave-ward with the greatest speed Like that disciples which did outrunne Peter But sometimes younger men step in indeed And peradventure twentie years or more Sooner then those that looked in before Graves gape for ev'rie sort The butcher's seen Often to kill the youngest of the flock Some long to pluck those apples that are green Death crops the branches and forbears the stock Children are wrapp'd up in their winding-sheets And aged parents mourn about the streets
A The mind of the Frontispice THat Buckler which you see at top No Cyclops fram'd for if you look Underneath't you see the shop Where 't was made that open Book The use of 't is those ghastly fears And pale terrours to withstand That assault when Death appearâ— Pictur'd here at your left hand Time on the other side doth pray you To imbrace 't and use it well So Death shall not though it slay you Hurt each sand's your Passing-bell When the last is out you know That 's your picture quite below A BUCKLER against the fear of DEATH Or Pious and Profitable Observations Meditations and Consolations By E. B. Printed by Roger Daniel Printer to the University of Cambridge And are to be sold by M. Spark junior in the little Old-Daily in London 1640. To the Right Worshipfull Mris Helena Phelips and Mris Agneta Gorges grandchildren to the Right Honourable Lady Helena late Lady Marchionesse of Northampton now with God E. B. wisheth the happinesse of grace here and of glory hereafter Gentlewomen THough there be nothing more certain more impartiall more sudden then the stroke of Death yet is there nothing so seldome thought upon especially of those whose youth and health seem to suppose their graves a great way off But I may not harbour such a thought of you The piety of that Family whereof you are very suitable members is a sufficient prohibition Piouâ— hearts are never barren of profitable thoughts and amongst all those wherewith even a gratious heart doth most abound none are certainly more advantageous then thoughts of Death which have ever more thoughts of Repentance Iudgement Heaven and Hell for their companions Yet the best may be bettered and what I present you with may make your meditations more and peradventure more usefull then they were before Some consolations you shall light upon which is you suffer to work effectually they will go neaâ— to 〈◊〉 a chearfull expectation of that King of terrours which otherwise you might be sinfully afraid of The poeme if it may be called so is a plain one because I meant to profit not to puzzle you and yet it is a poeme that your profit might come in the pleasingest way To assure you that the rhythme is no disparagement to the divinity of the matter were to question your ingenuity a great part of that wherein you exercise your selves both day and night being written in verse * which notwithstanding is the mighty power of God unto salvation If you accept and gain by this poore present and withall give it leave to wear your names into the world my ends are accomplished and your selves with all that honoured and religious familie shall be remembred as often as I kneel before the throne of grace And I will importunately beg of him that sitteth thereon to increase the good gifts and graces of his spirit within you What if your proficiencie in the wayes of piety be already famous yet if my prayers find good speed with God you may sit in glorie a degree the higher Thus prayeth Your humble servant to be commanded E. B. Profitable and pious thoughts of Death Part I. Of Deaths certainty IN heav'ns high Parliament an act is pass'd Subscrib'd by that eternall Three in One That each created wight must one day tast Of Deaths grim terrours They exempted none That sprang from Adam All that red-earth-strain Must to their earth again An ancient Register of burialls lies In Gentsis to let us understand That whosoever is begotten dies And every sort is under Deaths command His Empire 's large Rich poore old young and all Must go when he doth call Mans life 's a book and some of them are bound Handsome and richly some but meanly clad And for their matter some of them are found Learned and pious others are too bad For vilest fires Both have their end There 's a conclusion penn'd As well as title-page that 's infancy The matter that 's the whole course of our lives One 's Satans servant walking wickedly Another's pious and in goodnesse thrives One 's beggerly another's rich and brave Both drop into the grave One man a book in solio lives till age Hath made him crooked and put out his eyes His beard doth penance And death in a rage Mows down another whilst the infant cries In 's midwives lap that 's an Epitome Both wear deaths liverie God made not death Whence are we mortall then Sure Sinne 's the parent of this pale-fac'd foe Nought else did hatch it and the first of men He was Deaths grandfather And all the wo That in this or the next life we are in Is caused by our sinne Meditation 1. IF I must dye I 'll catch at every thing That may but mind me of my latest breath Deaths-heads graves knells blacks tombs all these shall bring Into my soul such usefull thoughts of death That this sable King of fears Though in chiefest of my health He behind me come by stealth Shall not catch me unawares When-e're I visit any dying friend Each sigh and 〈◊〉 and every death-bed-grone Shall reade me such a lecture of mine end That I 'll suppose his case will be mine own As this poore man here doth lie Rack'd all o're with deadly pain Never like to rise again Time will come when so must I. Thus ghastly shall I look thus every part Of me shall suffer thus my lips shall â—hrivel My teeth shall grin and thus my drooping heart Shall smoke out sighs and grones and all the evil Which I see this man lye under What sinne earns and death doth pay I shall feel another day Sinne from torment who can sunder Thus will my mournfull friends about me come My livelesse carcaâ—e shall be stretched out I must be packing to my longest home Thus will the mourners walk the streets about Thus for me the bells will toll Thus must I bid all adieu World and wife and children too Thus must I breathe out my soul At others fun'ralls when I see a grave That grave shall mind me of mortalitie I 'll think that such a lodging I must have Thus in the pit my bones must scattered he Here one bone and there another Here my ribs and there my scull And my mouth of earth be full I must call the worms my mother When I do look abroad methinks I see A fun'rall Sermon penn'd in every thing Each creature sâ—â—aks me mortall Yonder tree Which not a quarter since the glorious spring Had most proudly cloth'd in green And was tall and young and strong Now the ax hath laid along Nothing but his stump is seen And yonder fruitfull valleys yesternight Did laugh and sing they stood so thick with corn In was the sickle and 't was cut down quite And not a sheaf will stand tomorrow morn Yonder beauteous impâ— of May Pretty eye-delighting flowers Whose face heav'n doth wash with showers To put on their best aray I saw the fair'st the Lily and
Carnation And coy Adonis particoloured sonne Subject to such a sudden alteration That in a day their fading beauty 's gone This tree this corn and this flower Or what things else vainest are To my self I do compare Who may die within this houre Meditation 2. I 'LL ne'r be proud of beauty if I must Be blemish'd when I die And if the grave Will mix my beauty with the vilest dust What profits pride Reader I 'll pardon crave Here to set you down a story Of as rare and fair a She As the Sunne did ever see Whom Death robb'd of all her glory I once saw Phoebus in his mid-day sline Triumphing like the Sovereigne of the skies Untill two brighter rayes both more divine Outblazed his and they were this Nymphs eyes Forthwith Sol curtain'd his light Looking very red for shame To be vanquish'd by this Dame And did slink out of her sight I once saw silver Cynthia nights fair Queen In her full orb dimming each lesser flame Till this Nymphs beauty-vying front was seen Outshining hers then she look'd wan for shame The man in her knew he how But to quit that giddy place She had so divine a face Would have dwelt upon her brow Once was this woman pleas'd to walk the fields Then proudly fragrant with Dame Flora's store The damask rose unto her beauty yields And was contented to be fair no more Sure I cannot say how truly Yet 'mongst many 't was a fame That the rose did blush for shame And the violet look'd most bluly Once did this woman to the temple go Where doth fair Venus marble-statue lie Cut to the life that one can hardly know But that it lives indeed When she came nigh He who then the temple kept After would be often telling She was so super-excelling That for mad the marble wept Melodious musick 's warbled by the spheres Swans sing their Epitaphs in curious layes Once with a singing Swan a part she bears As soon's those corall doores dismiss'd her voice The poore Swan held his peace and di'd And the spheres as men do say Dumbly move unto this day This was by a rivers side What think you now of such a glorious woman This Phoenix sure was she if any might That might be proud And yet the tongue of no man Can well expresse nor any pen can write What grim death hath done unto her Now she 's of another feature Hardly can you know the creature Stay a while and we will view her Th' almighty King that dwells above in heaven Directs to 's high Shrieve Death a certain writ Wherein a strait imperiall charge was given At 's utmost peril forthwith on sight of it To arrest that piece of beauty And to wrap her up in clay 'Gainst the last great judgement-day Death address'd him to his duty And with great care gives warrant by and by Unto his baillifs Fever Pox and Gout Phrensie Strangury Colick Squinancy Consumption Dropsie and an ugly rout Beside these for to assail her Deaths command was that they must Tie her fast in chains of dust He gave charge that none should bail her You would not think with what a furious pace These catchpoles flie to pull this creature down But Pox was nimblest she got to her face And plow'd it up This hag goes in a gown Rugged and of colour tawny Button'd o're from top to toe Skin-deep beauties deadly foe Uglier hag was never any Fain would the rest have fastned on her too But that this hag had frighted out her soul Now looks her carcase of another hue Grim ugly lothsome ghastly and as foul As did ever eye look on What 's become of that complexion Which held all hearts in subjection In a moment all is gone If we might be so bold to dig the grave Some few years hence where this good woman lies Sure we should find this beauty but a slave To pallid putrefaction and a prize For those silly vermine worms As they crawl in stinking swarms She doth hug them in her arms And doth give them suck by turns Here 's a deformed lump indeed and this Must be the fortune of the fairest face None then are proud but fools They love amisse Whose hearts are chain'd to any thing but grace From the beauty of the skin In the loveliest outward part Lord vouchsafe to turn my heart To love that which is within Meditation 3. IF Death will come sure there will come an end Of all this worlds deep-biting misery Nothing adverse that 's here on earth doth tend Beyond the grave that 's a delivery From the pow'r of men and devils And what-ever other wo May befall us here below Death's a â—helter from all evils Here I am poore my daily drops of sweat Will not maintâ—in my full-stock'd family A dozen hungry children crie for meat And I have none nor will words satisfie Could I give their belly ears 'T were a comfort or could fill Hungry stomacks with good will Or make daily bread of tears Here the oppressour with his griping claws Sits on my skirts my racking land-lord rears Both rent and fine with potent looks he aws Me from mine own Scarce any man but bears In his bosome Ahabs heart Horse-leach-like that 's ever craving Other mens and sick of having Right or wrong will catch a part Here in these clay-built houses sicknesse reigns I have more maladies then I can name Each member of my body hath its pains Moreover weeping groning sadnesse shame Slanders mâ—lancholy fear Discontents disgraces losses And a thousand other crosses Must be born if I live here But these are finite all When I am dead My poverty is ended and my care I heare my samish'd children crie for bread No longer Then I drink I lodge I fare Just as well as Caesar doth There ends cold and nakednesse All my former wretchednesse Death is meat and drink and cloth There 's no face grinding There the mighty cease From troubling there the weary be at rest The servant 's freed the pris'ner is at ease All 's still and quiet no man is oppress'd For incroachers there are none Not a poore man's wronged nor Is his vineyard longed for Every man may keep his own Sicknesse there 's none when-ever Death shall take My body hence and lodge it in the clay I shall not feel a tooth or finger ake Nor any other misery that may In the least degree displease me For all sores the grave hath plasters And it cureth all disasters Of all burdens Death will ease me Malicious tongues fired below in hell There will not hurt me nor the poisonous breath Of whispering detractours I shall dwell Securely in the dust One stroke of Death Sets me out of gun-shot quite Not the deepest piercing tongue Can there do me any wrong Bark they may but cannot bite Lord I am thine and if it be thy will While I do live a stranger here below Brim-high with bitternesse my cup to fill And make me
drink 't yet Lord withall bestow But thy grace and thou shalt see me Patient and my comfort 's this That a short affliction 't is In a moment Death may free me Meditation 4. IF I must die it must be my endeavour So to provide that every thought of Death May be a thought of comfort that when-ever That aged sire shall take away my breath I may willingly lay down This old house that 's made of clay Gladly welcoming the day That brings an eternall crown But of all things a holy life 's the way Must lead me to a comfortable end To crucifie my lusts and to obey Gods sacred will in all things This doth tend Unto comfort joy and ease Mark the man that is upright And sets God alwayes in a sight That mans end is ever peace What makes me fear a serpent 't is 〈◊〉 sting The mischief 's there When that is taken out I can look on him as a harmlesse thing And in my bosome carry him about What makes Death look 〈◊〉 Noâ— Deaths self it is his sting That doth fear and horrour bring And makes men so loth to die The sting of death is sinne but there 's a Jesus Hath pluck'd it out The guilt 's done quite away The stain is wash'd He sent his Spirit to ease us In some good measure of that kingly sway Which o're us sinne held before Blessed work of grace now I Strongest lusts can 〈◊〉 In my soul sinne reigns no more Now in me holinesse is wrought which is A pious disposition of the heart Inclining me to hate what 's done amisse In me and others never to depart From God to left hand or right Nor one of his laws to break But to think and do and speak What 's well-pleasing in â—us sight Each act from faith and love ariseth and The end I aim at is my Makers praise His word 's my rule my warrant 's his command Thus am I fitted Death cut off my dayes If thou wilt within this houre I will thank thee for thy pain For to me to die is gain I 'll not fear a jote thy power What canst thou do that justly may affright me Though with thee in the dark I dwell a space Yet canst thou not eternally benight me Thou art my passage to a glorious place Where shall not be any night My rais'd ashes shall enjoy There an everlasting day And an uneclipsed light I fear not death because of putrefaction Nor if I might would willingly decline it My body gains by 't 't is the graves best action God as a founder melts it to refine it Death cannot annihilate And in despite of the grave Yet I shall a body have Fairer and in better state Gods second work excells his first by ods Our second birth life Adam to repair Our bodies is a second work of Gods To make them better then at first they were Glorious immortall sound Nimble beautifull and so Splendid that from top to toe Not a blemish may be sound What begger weeps when 's rags are thrown away To put on better clothes Who is 't will grieve To pull a rotten house down that it may Be fairer built Why should we not receive Death with both hands when he comes To pull off those rags that hide us To unhouse us and provide us Richer clothes and better homes The griping pangs of Death do not affright My heart at all I have deserved mo And if upon no other terms I might Enjoy my God I to my God would go Through hells self although a throng Of an hundred thousand juries Of the black'st infernall Furies Claw'd me as I went along Nor can those inward terrours make me quake Which Death-beds often on the soul do bring I have no Death-bed-reck'nings for to make 'T was made while I was well and every thing Was dispatch'd before that I Nothing in the world now save Home-desiring longings have Then to do but just to die Nor doth it trouble me that Death will take me From those delights that are enjoy'd below Alas I know that none of them can make me One jote the happier man nor can bestow Any comfort Carnall gladnesse Mirth delight and jolliâ—y This worlds best felicitie All is vanity and madnesse Mere empty husks Had I as many treasures In my possession as the muddiest wretch Did ever cover and as many pleasures As from the creature fleshly men can fetch Had I this or if I were Supreme Monarch onely Lord Of what earth and sea afford Yet I would not settle here To be dissolv'd is better Death doth bring A fairer fortune then it takes away It sets us in a world where every thing Is a happinesse a full and solid joy Not to be conceiv'd before We come thither but the blisse Which exceedeth all is this That there we shall sinne no more Lord grant a copious portion of thy Spirit The more I have of that the lesse I fear What Death can do for sure I shall inherit All joy in heaven if I am holy here Nought suits with heaven but sanctitie Let my God thy Spirit and grace Fit me for that holy place And that holy companie Meditation 5. IF Death will come what do men mean to sinne With so much greedinesse me thinks I see What a sad case the godlesse world is in How fast asleep in her securitie Fearlessely in sinne men live As if Death would never come Or there were no day of doom When they must a reck'ning give Observe a little yonder black-mouth'd swearer How 's tongue with oathes and 〈◊〉 pelts the skies 'T would grieve the heart of any pious hearer But to bear witnesse of his blasphemâ—es He darts wounds at God on high Puts on cursing as his clothes And doth wrap his tongue in oathes To abuse Eternity In law lesse lust the fornicatour fries And longs to slake it 'twixt forbidden 〈◊〉 Ne'r sets the sunne but his adulterous eyes Observes the twilight and his harlot meets That which follows when the night Draws its curtain o'r the air To conceal this goatish pair Modesty forbids to write And I could shew you were it worth the viewing In that room three or foure drunkards reeling In this as many more that sweat with spewing Some that have drunk away their sense and feeling Men of all sorts in their wine And their ale sit domineering Cursing railing roring swearing Under every baser signe 'T is said so vile is this big-belly'd sinne That in a day and lesse some foure or five Of lustie drunken throats will swallow in More then hath kept two families alive A whole forthnight yet made they Merrie with 't Had I my wishes Such gulls should not drink like fishes But their throats should chaÌ„ge their trade The covetous man with his usurious clutches Doth catâ—h and hold fast all the wealth he may He leans on 't as a creeple on his crutches The miser studies nothing night and day But his gain he 's like a
swine Looking downward like a mole Blind and of an earthen soul Minding nothing that 's divine These and beside these other sorts of sinners In every parish you may dayly see As greedy at their sinnes as at their dinners And wallowing in all impiety Sure these miscreants do never Entertein a thought of dying Nor yet are afraid of frying In hell flames for altogether Thou God of spirits be pleas'd to aw my heart With death and judgement that when I would sinne I may remember that I must depart And whatsoe're condition I am in When I sink under Deaths hand There 's no penance in the grave Nor then can I mercy have So must I in judgement stand Meditation 6. Lord what a thief is Death it robs us quite Of all the world great men of all their honours Luxurious men of all their fond delight Rich men of all their money farms and mannours Naked did the world find us And the world will leave us so We shall carrie when we go Nothing but leave all behind us Let Death do's worst ambitious men do climb By any sinne though it be ne're so soul Gold-thirsty misers swallow any crime That brings gain with it though it kill the soul Here for gain is over-reaching Cosening cheating lying stealing Knavish and sinister dealing All arts of the devils teaching Whilst I am well advis'd I 'll never strive T' increase my wealth if 't will increase my sinne I will be rather poore then seek to thrive By means unlawfull all 's not worth a pinne When mine eye-lidâ— Death doth close What I sinned for must be Shak'd hands with eternally But the sinne that with me goes I 'll not wast love upon these lower things Nor on the choicest of them doâ—ing sit For when sad Death a habeas corpus brings To take the world from me and me from it 'Gainst which I have no protection To spend love in what I may No where but on earth enjoy Were to loose all my affection The longest lease of temporalls God doth make Is but for life I 'll patiently behave My self though from me God be pleas'd to take In middle age that which his bounty gave Neither discontent nor passion Shall make me repine or grumble 'T is a way to make me humble And takes from me a temptation Thou mad'st my heart Lord keep it for thy self Lest love of dust eternally undo me Vouchsafe that this vain worthlesse empty pelf May never win me though it daily woo me If 't were lovely yet 't is gone When I dy Lord make me see That there is enough in thee To place all my love upon Meditation 7. I Am a stranger and a pilgrime here The world 's mine inne 't is not my dwelling-place In this condition all my fathers were The life I live below is but a race Here I sojourn some few yeares This world is a countrey strange Death my pilgrimage will change For a home above the spheares In elder time the goddesse Quiet had Her temple but 't was plac'd without the gates Of Ethnick Rome to â—hew that good and bad Have here their vexing and disturbing fates And do bear their crosse about Whilst within the walls they stay Of this world and shall enjoy No rest till Death let them out Here I am look'd upon with divers eyes Sometimes of envy sometimes of disdain Here I endure a thousand miseries Some vex my person some my credit stain My estate 's impair'd by some But yet this doth comfort me That hereafter I shall be Better us'd when I come home In all estates my patience shall sustein me I am resolved never to repine Though ne'r so coursely this world entertein me Such is a strangers lot such must be mine Were I of the world to dwell Here as in my proper home Without thoughts of life to come Then the world would use me well I am not of their minds in whom appears No care for any world but this below Who lay up goods in store for many years As if they were at home but will bestow Neither care nor industry Upon heaven as if there They were strangers but had here A lease of eternitie The banish'd Naso weeps in sable strain The woes of banishment nor could I tell If Death and it were offer'd of the twain Which to make choice of O! to take farewell Of our native soil to part With our friends and children dear And a wife that is so near Must needs kill the stoutest heart What iâ—'t then to be absent from that house Eternall in the heav'ns not made with hands From Angels Saints God Christ himself whose Spouse Our soul is from a haven where nothing lands That defileth where's no danger No fear no pain no distresse All ' â— eternall happinesse What is 't to be here a stranger I have been oft abroad yet ne'r could find Half that contentment which I found at home Me thought that nothing suited with my mind Into what place soever I did come Though I nothing needed there Neither clothes nor drink nor meat Nor fit recreations yet Me thought home exceeded farre Thither did my affections alwayes bend And I have wish'd before I came half-way A thousand times my journey at an end And have been angry with a minutes stay Sunne-set I did ever fear And a hill or dirty mile That delay'd me but a while Seem'd to set me back a yeare I built not tabernacles in mine inne Nor ever cry'd out 'T is good being here No company would I be ever in That drown'd but half an â— our in wine or bier I have wish'd my horse would runne With a farre more winged speed Then those skittish jades that did Draw the chariot of the Sunne From carnall self-love Lord my heart unsetter And then shall I desire my heavenly home More then this here because that home is better And pray with fervency Thy kingdome come Lord had thy poore servant done What thou hast set him about I would never be without Holy longings to be gone Meditation 8. THere was a State as I have heard it spoken The tale doth almost all belief surpasse That had a custome never to be broken But a bad custome I am sure it was 'Mongst themselves their King to choose The elected man must be King as long's they would and he When they pleas'd his crown must loose This State elected and deposed when And whom they would but the deposed Prince They suffered not to live 'mongst other men But drove him to a countrey farre from thence Into wofull banishment Where he chang'd his royalty For want and all misery Scarce a Kingly punishment One King there was that whilst his crown was on Knowing his subjects fickle disposition Beat his crown-worthy head to think upon Some course of providence to make provision At the place of 's banishment Full-stuff'd bags of money and What things else might purchase land He into that Kingdome sent It came to passe after some
ghastly and his sting Morâ— piercing but our wealth cannot support us 'Gainst small 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 fears that Death will bring Riches do promise much but do deceive us When we have need of succour then they leave us Anoint me Lord with eye-salve to discern What poore contents the world affords at best Instruct me Lord and I shall quickly learn That without thee there 's no condition blest Bad wayes of gaining into hell will drive me But all my wealth will not from Death reprive me Meditation 3. SOme therefore sinne because they do abound In store of wealth this is the onely ground Of many sinnes Gods laws they do tranâ—gresse They wâ—ong their equals aâ—d the poore oppresse They 〈◊〉 religion and civilitie Both under foot all kind of tyrannic They exercise on all within their reach Nothing can keep them in they make a breach Through all those senses which at the beginning God set to keep rebellious man from sinning They will be reveilers whoremongers swearers Drunkards oppreslours liers and forbearers Of no impiety this is the reason Great men they are and rich 'T is petty treason Though in a modest way for to reprove Those sinfull courses which our betters love If we dare do it though we have a calling To do it boldly we are tax'd for bawling And saucâ—e fellows and another day Sure we shall smart for 't Lord I 'll never say I 'll sinne because I 'm rich unlesse that I Could say I 'm rich and therefore will not die Meditation 4. IF from Deaths stroke my riches cannot shield me Nor on my death-bed any comfort give Then I will take a care that they shall yield me Some joy and comfort whilst I am alive And never shall a jote my sinnes increase Nor hinder me from going hence in peace I 'll get them well my calling shall be lawfull My brows or brains shall sweat for what I have And I will use my calling with an awfull Regard of God and conscience nor will crave What I have not a right to They do eat Scarce their own bread whose faces never sweat Unlesse they sweat with eating Nor can I Find any warrant for those wayes of gain Which many men do get their livings by To keep a needlesse Alâ—house to maintein An idle familie to be a Pander A Fortune-teller or an Apes commander A purblind Crowder or a Rogue that canteth A Cuckold by consent for ready pay A sturdy Begger that not one limb wanteth Or one that borrows money on the way A Us'rer who whether 't shine or rain If the Sunne stand not still is sure of gain For these I find no warrant nor for dealing Deceitfully in selling or in buying To take more then what 's sold is worth is stealing Or to give lesse the art of multiplying Our lands or gold or silver by subtracting From other mens or by unjust exacting What is not ours Better in my opinion It were to seed on barley-bread and pottage Made of salt water and an onion To wear a thred-bare coat and in a cottage Smoke-bound and rusty pennylesse to dwell Then to get wealth unlesse I get it well And when 't is justly gotten every thought That I 'll bestow upon it shall be such As it deserves If heav'ns full hand hath brought Plenty into my bosome if as much I have as I could wish my care shall be To think of 't all as of a vanity A vanity that for ought I do know May take its flight and in an houre leave me As God had many wayes for to bestow His bounty on me he hath to bereave me As many more as moveables I 'll deem it From me or with me and I will esteem it A strong temptation unto many a sinne That never will perform what it doth promise That wealths fair books when we are deepest in The greater reck'ning God exacteth from us I 'll not afford my wealth a better thought And I do think I think on 't as I ought And as I ought I 'll use 't Not to be fewel For any lust nor to maintein my riot Not to be prodigall vainglorious cruel Nor yet to make my potent purse disquiet My poorer brother but from thence I 'll raise My neighbours profit and my Makers praise Where there is need I 'll ready be to give Glad to distribute naked ones I 'll cover Hungry and thirsty souls I will relieve Widows distress'd in me shall find another Husband to orphanes I will be in stead Of parents to provide their daily bread I 'll never empty send the poore awayâ— The Church shall ever find my purse unty'd The King shall have his due without delay The Common-wealth shall never be deny'd Thus shall my wealth be common unto many If ever God be pleas'd to send me any Riches so justly gotten and imploy'd So piâ—usly although they cannot make A man immortall that he should avoid The grave and rottennesse yet do not shake The soul with terrours and such desperate fears As what 's ill gotten doth when Death appears Make me a faithfull Steward holy Father Of what thou hast intrusted me withall Where I straw'd not grant I may never gather Nor sinne in spending Then send Death to call Me to account Lord when thou wilt and I Shall entertein the message joyfully Sect. 2. Honours cannot protect us from the stroke of Death OF honours all that can be said doth meet In Kings and Princes glory majesty Command and titles yet their sacred feet Trudge to the grave-ward Power Royaltie A Kingdome Crown and Sceptre cannot be Protections against mortalitie Princes are Gods on earth yet sure they must As well as meaner men be sick and die Their Royall bodies shall be chang'd to dust No crown below is worn eternally Of all those Kings which in Gods book we reade One died and another reign'd in 's stead If good and loyall subjects had their wish A gracious Prince should never see the grave Nor should his Royall corps be made a dish For worms but pious wishes will not save A King from dust As other mens his breath Is in his nostrils Crowns must bow to Death Sure were it not a kind of petty treason To wish his Majesty so long without A crown of glory I should think it reason To pray his lamp of life might ne'r go out Though not in 's self yet Lord grant he may be Immortall in a blessed progenie Meditation 1. MOngst us an humble great one is a wonder Rarer by ods then is a winters thunder Great men and good each other seldome kisse Pride to preferment married O! there is Not a thought within their brain Of a grave nor yet of seeing Death nor do they dream of being Changed into dust again Consider Sir though you have been a taster Of Princes favours mounted all degrees Of honour have been called Lord and Master Though your approch hath bow'd as many knees As once mighty Hamans yet Is it not Eternity
That you hold your greatnesse by Death and you must one day meet As I remember I have read a story That one in Embassy sent from the King Of Persia to Rome was shew'd the glory Of that proud citie every famous thing That was by the Romanes thought To expresse the great and mighty Prowesse of their glorious city Thither was the Persian brought There he beheld such glorious structures rais'd To dare the skies that outwent all examples Where art and cost workman and founder prais'd Baths Theatres Tombs Monuments and Temples Statues that would wonder-strike Any mortall man that should Once behold them neither could All the world shew the like After this view Romes mighty Emperour Longing for praises in the Persian tongue Demanded of this strange Embassadour What he now thought of Rome I should do wrong To your sacred Majesty Thus th' Ambassadour reply'd And this glorious place beside If I should not magnifie Both you and it But one thing I dislike In Rome it self I see that Death doth reigne As well here as in Persia and doth strike The greatest down and when he please doth chain People Senatours and Kings In cold fetters made of dust Even noble Romanes must Feel what putrefaction brings Your Emperours thâ—mselves 〈◊〉 had their turnâ— In fun'rall piles These â—ombs can testify The Caesars moâ—tall In these sacred urns What lies but royall dust Mortality Happens here and I know no man Bâ—t â—ath pâ—wer to hold his breath As 〈◊〉 and is free from Death As much as the noblest Romane Look we a little on this land of ours Here 's plenty peace and every othâ—r blessing Into her bosome God in plenteous 〈◊〉 Rains kindnesses that are beyond expressing Sure we of this kingdome may Justly our Creatour praise For a share in happier dayes Then Rome did at best enjoy Ours is a land of barly and of whâ—at Our stones are iron and our â—ills yield brasse A land wherein th' inhabitants do eat Bread without 〈◊〉 here our blessings passe All enumeration What God severally bestows Upon others joyntly flows From his bounty to this nation Yet here men die too not the russet Clowns And Peasants onely that do hold the â—low And Shepherds that sit piping on the downs And milk-maids that do court'sie to a coâ— But those noble men that have Titles lordships farms and mannours And a great book full of honours These go down into the grave See you not yonder super-stately palace Three generations since that house was builded A great man did it for his Lordships solace In summer-time but dying up he yielded To his heir this stately pile This heir left it to his brother He dy'd too and then another Swagger'd there a little while And he that had it last is now remov'd A story lower down into the dust Those swelling titles which were so belov'd That great estate in which the man did trust Troups of gallants that did give Their attendance all that treasure Waiting on his Lordships pleasure Could not keep the man alive Mark yonder marble-tomb beneath it hath This man a lodging All those lines you see On this side are a praising Epitaph And on the other side his titles be Of this fabrick if we might One piece from another sunder And behold what lyeth under 'T would be scarce so fair a sight Great ones remember that there is a place Which poore men call a death-bed and a time Of parting hence you walk a nimble pace To earth-ward every houre Here though you climb Up to Honour's highest round Drink a cup full to the brim Of the world in pleasures swim Death will lay you under ground Meditation 2. VVHose heart so adamantine but would weep Sad crimson drops to think upon some risers Lord what a wicked shuffling they do keep To lift themselves Some-have been sacrificers Of their fathers brothers friends Kinsfolk children and have stood Wetshod every step in bloud To attein their lofty ends Of martyrs what a lamentable heap Did Herod make for fear to loose his crown A mother would have sold a cradle cheap To buy a coffin or a mourning gown This fell Tyrants rage appears Running down each Parents face His wrath left in every place Childlesse mothers droâ—n'd in tears And Absolom that miracle of beauty So eagerly did long to be a King That he could soon unlearn his filiall duty And by a strange rebellion fain would bring The thrice-venerable head Of his aged father down To the grave without a crown And he triumph in his stead Abimelech so strong was his ambition A bloudie bargain made with certain men Of Belial and to hinder competition Did sacrifice at once threescore and ten Of his brothers on a stone With so soul and deep a guilt So much harmlesse bloud is spilt That himself may reigne alone Of that inhumane hell-bred tragedie By Athaliah on the royall seed The motive was desire of majestie And that her own arms might the better speed Our third Richard goes for one Of those butchers who think good To cement their crowns with bloud And by murders reach a throne The great Tuâ—ks absolute prerogative Which in securitie his crown mainteins Is not to suffer one of them to live That hath a drop of royall bloud in 's veins When he 's crown'd there 's nothing lacking That may to the safetie tend Of this Monarch but to send The ghosts of his kinsmen packing If I at leisure were to write a storie Of such black deeds as these at large I could Tell you of numbers who to purchase glorie Honours and high rooms in the world have sold And this policie they call A good conscience dearer farre Then a thousand kingdomes are And to boot their God and all And yet when all is done there dwells a God above A God that 's greater then the greatest are Who can and will send Death for to remove The greatest hence and bring them to the barre Where must stand both small and great To have sentence e'r they go Of eternall blisse or wo At Gods dreadfull judgement-seat When you are seated highest let your carriage Be full of pietie you do an act Worthy your greatnesse if you make a marriage 'Twixt it and goodnesse if you do contract Honours unto holynesse Ever give the Lord his due Honour who hath honoured you Then will Death affright the lesse Affright the lesse 't will not affright at all The errand 's welcome when a charge is giv'n To that grim pursuivant that he must call Your honours hence unto a court in heav'n To be great is not the thing That can dying-comforts yield Goodnesse onely is the field Whence all soul-refreshings spring Meditation 3. IF ever it should please God and the King Which I do not desire to give me honours Yet never should my best preferments bring Vices to boot they should not change my manners Many a man hath been good Unpreferr'd and not a slave To his lusts yet honours have
bad courses men do follow In their youth and how they wallow In base lusts of ev'rie kind And if you ask these brainlesse hot-spurres why They dedicate themselves to such lewd courses They yet are young these gallants still replie And youth must have its swing but no remorse is Wrought at all in any heart For this lewdnesse there remains Not a thought within their brains That the youngest may depart Lord take possession of my heart betimes My youth is fittest for thy service take it Unto thy self make white those crimson crimes That fain would soil it let me never make it A pretense as many do To be lewd but think that I In the height of youth may die May die and be damned too Meditation 3. PArents methinks betime should strive to make Their children good that heaven may receive them If God should send an early Death to take Them from the earth it cannot choose but grieve them And fill full with bitter woe Any parents heart to see That their children wicked be And Death come and find them so Those fruitfull couples whom the Lord hath blest With children should take greatest care to breed them Religiously In this more love 's express'd Then in their care to cloth them or to feed them Or what else they can bestow For their life or livelyhood And to do their children good In the things that are below You must instruct your children in their way That 's double Civil and Religious too They must be taught Gods precepes to obey And to their neighbours give what is their due If you do not strive to set them By that rule which God hath given In the way that leads to heaven You did wrong them to beget them There 's such a powre and force in education That justly we may call 't a second nature Nature finds matter nurture gives the fashion And turns a man into another creature If a youth in 's manners halt On his parents we do lay All the blame and use to say That his breeding is in fault The heathen who did see but by that light Which purblind nature lent them ever caught At all occasions they conceived might Be helps to have their youth in goodnesse taught In their bodies would they find For no where but in the book Of the creatures did they look Lessons to instruct the mind It is observ'd that Socrates let passe No wayes nor means at all that might conduce To their amendment often to a glasse He brought thâ—m and that shadow had its use By his means their fâ—ces bred them For however their complexion Did appear by that 〈◊〉 From 't a lecture would he reade them That fair ones must take heed they did not soil That comely outside with deformititie Within to have an inside foul would spoil The choicest beautie that their symmetry Just proportion of parts And their comlinesse of face Was not worth a joâ—e if grace Did not beautifie their hearts And that deformed ones should have a care That vertuous endowments of the soul Might recompense those blemishes that were By nature plac'd to make the bodie foul That the mind and nothing else Makes us either foul or fair Out-side beauties nothing are To a mind where vertue dwells Of any age their youth is fitt'st to take The print of vice or vertue 't is a clean Unwritten table where a man may make What characters he will If e'r you mean To make straight a crooked tree You must do 't while 't is a twig When your children are grown big They will not reformed be Sometimes if need require you shall do well To use the rod if duly you correct them 'T may be a means to whip their souls from hell From many sinnes may prudent stripes protect them No such physick as the rod There 's health in a loving scourge It will childrens manners purge And will make them fit for God But whensoe'r you fasten any blows Let sinnes against the holy name of God Be first corrected for a child that knows To give his due to heav'n on him the rod Will prevail with little labour To correct him how to live Civilly and how to give What he owâ— unto his neighbour And yet you must be moderate in strokes You may not make a trade of chastisements A parent that corrects too much provokes His child to wrath so pious documents Will be cast away in vain Too much mercie is not fit Neither too much rigour yet Mercie 's better of the twain That high and great Jehovah whom we find Adorn'd with mercie goodnesse justice wrath Is evermore to mercie most inclin'd Of all the rest that most employment hath He that suffered near mount Sion And whatever he did hallow By his practice we should follow Was a Lamb as well's a Lion And e'r you strike observe their dispositions Those foure complexions in mans grosser part Are but a few the finer part's conditions Are many more Some at a look will start Others will but make a mock At the lash it self and never Will expresse the least endevour To amend with many a knock The Nat'ralists can tell you of a stone Extremely hard which bloud or milk will soften But with the strongest hammer there is none Can do it though he beat it ne'r so often The sea yields a certain weed Which if gently grip'd will flie Roughly will yield presently Rigour such stout natures need Some childrens dispositions are like nettles The gentl'er you do handle them they sting The more fair means in them no vertue settles Some are like thorns the harder you do wring The more deeply will they pierce Mark their natures and you shall By due chastisements recall Both the gentle and the fierce But it must be 'bove all your chiefest care To shine before your children by the light Of good example for examples are Of most prevailing natures What the sight Can be master of appears To be more convincing farre Then all other truths that are Onely objects of the ears A high perfection did the heathen deem it To imitate their Jove were it but in His close adulteries they did esteem is A commendable passage not a sinne In a wrong way or a right Samplers lead I know not how If King Alexander bow Not a courtier stands upright If Cyrus nose be bad or if a scaire Chance to disfigure his imperiall face If Plato's learned shoulders be too square One's subjects th' others scholars are so base As to draw 't into a fashion And if Aristotle stammer All his boyes will lisp and hammer Out their words in imitation If cruel Dionysius tyrannize Each man grows fierce and if Antiochus Be lustfull he is not accounted wise That will not be effeminate and thus Ptolemeus Philadelph Loving letters by example Egypt underfoot did trample Ignorance as did himself With scholars like himself Augustus fill'd The Romane Empire and Tiberius he Stor'd it with such as were exactly skill'd In fair
Lord will have us die He numbers all our dayes we cannot shorten Nor lengthen them a minute Destiny Neither spinnes nor cuts the thread God a certain period sets No man shorter falls or gets Further then the bounds decreed If God vouchsafe to number out the hairs That do adorn and cloth our sinfull heads Who doubteth that his providence forbears To count our dayes If not a sparrow treads On the earth's face thus or thus But his providence awaketh For to note it sure he taketh Greater care by farre of us If any godlesse wits so curious be To talk of Hezekiah's fifteen years His sentence God did change not his decree The answer is yet Esay's tongue appears To speak not a jote the lesse Truth 't was with a supposition God doth thâ—eaten with condition Either 〈◊〉 expresse When Pestilence that lothsome dreadfull hag Bepatch'd with botches wanders up and down And into ev'ry houshold drops the plague Scarce any Turk in an infected town But will wise and friend afford Daily visits and imbraces They flie no contagious places Nor fear either bed or bord Their reason is Gods providence doth write Their fortunes on their foreheads neither can Their day of life be longer nor their night Of Death come sooner then God wills it Man Must yield 's ghost when God will have it For health and life if God will Save it 't is not plague can kill If not 't is not they can save it Such block-heads have not brains enough to think That as the time so God withall decrees The means of life as physick meat and drink Clothes recreations and what else he sees Needfull They themselves destroy And are to their safety strangers That runne into mortall dangers And not shun them when they may Howe'r imploy'd Lord grant I may have leisure Religiously to meditate that thou My dayes dost number and my life dost measure And make me think Lord that this very now That this twinkling of an eye Is the period thou hast set Lord grant I may ne'r forget That this moment I may die PART III. Of Deaths suddennesse THough sometimes Death doth stay till it be late At night untill our most decrepit years And when he comes doth like a King in state Send harbingers before yet Death appears Sometimes unlook'd for early in the morning And takes us up before he gives us warning When at full tide our youthfull bloud doth flow In every vein and when our pulses dance A healthfull measure when our stomachs know No qualms at all as we would say by chance Snatch'd are our bodies to their longest homes And Death is past before a sicknesse comes How many sleepie mortals go to bed With healthful bodies and do rise no more How many hungry mortals have been sed Contentedly at dinner yet before Against a second meal they whâ—t their knives Death steals away their stomachs and their lives How many in the morning walk abroad For to be breath'd on by the keener air Perhaps to clarifie their grosser bloud Or else to make their rougher checks look falt But e'r they tread a furlong in the frost Death nips them so their former labour 's lost Nature is parsimonious Man may live With little but alas with how much lesse A man may die There 's nothing but may give A mortall blow small matters may undresse Our souls of clay A thousand wayes we have To send our crazie bodies to the grave The elements conâ—eder how they may Procure our Death the Air we suck to live It self hath poi'sned thousands in a day And made such havock that the slain did strive For elbow-room in Church-yards houses were Good cheap and onely shrowds and coffins dear If we could come to speak with Pharaoh's ghost 'T would tell how many met with sudden graves Beneath the water that a mighty host Was slain and buried by the surly waves Except a few which surfeted with store The crop-sick sea did vomit on the shore Sometimes our mother Earth as if she were So hunger-bitten that she needs must eat Her children gapes as for some toothsome cheer And multitudes one swallow down doth let Which either in her womb she doth bestow Or else doth send them to the world below That usefull creature Fire whose light and heat Doth comfort and when Earth doth penance warm us Whose cookerie provides us wholesome meat Yet mortally this element doth harm us One morning sent from heav'n such dreadfull flashes As did intomb five cities in their ashes We may remember some that have been kill'd By falls of buildings some by drunken swords By beasts both wild and tame our bloud is spill'd There 's not a creature but a death affords 'Bove fourtiâ— childrens limbs God's anger tears In pieces with the teeth of savage bears But there 's some likelyhood that sudden Death By mean like these may easily befall us But many times we mortalls lose our breath By wayes lesse probable The Lord doth call us Upon a sudden hence by petty things Sometimes the meanest means Death's â—rrand brings Our staff of life may kill a little crumb Of bread may choke us going down awâ—y A small hair in their drink hath caused some To breath their last By any thing we die Sometimes a sudden grief â—r sudden joy Have might enough to take our souls away Meditation 1. HOw weak's the thread of life that any thing How weak so e'r can break it by and by How short 's the thread of life that Death can bring Both ends of it together suddenly Well may the scriptures write the life of man As weak as water and as short 's a span How soon is water spilt upon the ground Once spilt what hand can gather 't up again Fome that doth rise to day is seldome found Floting tomorrow When the wanton rain Gets bubbles to make sport with on the water A minute breaks them into their first matter Such is our life How soon doth Death uncase Our souls and when they once are fled away Who can return them As upon the face Of thirstie ground when water 's shed to day The morrow sees it not so when we die None can revive us as we fall we lie Our life 's a vapour Vapours do arise Sometimes indeed with such a seeming power As if they would eclipse the glorious skies And muffle up the world but in an houre Or two at most these vapours are blown o'r And leave the air as clear as 't was before We look big here a little while and bristle And shoulder in the smiling world as though There were no dancing but as we would whistle So strangely domineer we here below But as a vapour in a sun-shine day We vanish on a sudden quite away Our life is like the smoke of new-made fires As we in age and stature upward tend Our dissolution is so much the nigher Smoke builds but castles in the air ascend Indeed it doth aloft but yet it must At high'st
dissolve we vanish into dust What is a shadow Nothing Grant it wâ—re A thing that had a name and being too Yet let a cloud 'twixt us and heav'n appear It s turn'd into its former nothing â— o Our shadows vanish surely so do we At noon a man at night a corps we see Our life 's a cloud and from varietie Of vapours are created diverse 〈◊〉 The stronger last a time the weaker flie With lesse ado yet half a day transports Both strong'st and weakest hence and in their â—light Their nimble speed outrunnes the quickest sight Some men are healthfull merrie lustie strong Some crazy weak sad sickly dâ—ooping both Post hence with winged speed we may not wrong Life's footmanship for sure with greater sloth Clouds through the air the strongest wind doth send Then frail mans life doth gallop to its end With greater sloth A man that now is here Perhaps an houre yea half a minute hence That man may in another world appear Our life moves faster then those things which sense Acquaint us with faster then ships by farre Or birds or bulletâ— that do plow the air All flesh is grasse how suddenly that fades Grasse in the morning standeth proudly green E'r night the husbandmen prepare their blades To cut it down and not a leaf is seen But e'r the morrow 's wither'd into hay That in its summer-suit was cloth'd to day We grow and flourish in the world a space Our dayes with ease miâ—th health strength heav'n doth crown But 't is not long we run this happy race Death cometh with his sithe and mows us down When we are apt to say for ought we know As yet we have an age of dayes to grow Our life 's a flower that groweth in the field A garden-flower is but a fading thing Though it hath hedges banks and walls to shield It self from cropping long 't is e'r the spring Doth bring it forth three quarters of a yeare Are gone before its beauty doth appear And when it shineth in its fairest pride One hand or other will be sure to pluck it But let 's suppose all snatching fingers ty'd And grant withall that never Bee doth suck it To blemish it a jote yet will the breath Of winter blow the fairest flower to death 'T is long before we get us very farre Into the world for after generation There is a time when lifelesse lumps we are And have not bodies of a humane fashion Such as we have both life and motion want And when we live we live but like a plant A while we do but grow then like a beast We have our senses next indeed we live The life of him that lives to be a feast For despicable worms The womb doth give No passage to us yet we are like corn Sown lately fit to be but are not born When born 't is long before we can procure Our legs or understandings to assist us And then 't is long before we grow mature And all this while if sudden Death hath mist us Yet in the hoary winter of our age Our part is ended and we quit the stage Lord what is man Lord rather what am I I cannot tell my self unlesse thou teach me From thee came Know thy self down through the â—kie To mortalls here Thy servant doth beseech theâ— To make me know though it be to my shame How vanishing how weak and frail I am Meditation 2. VVHat would I do if I were sure to die Within this houre sure heartily repent My sinfull couch should never more be driâ— But drown'd in tears sad grones my heart should rent And my sorrow still increase With repenting till I die That once reconciled I Might be found of God in peace Then presently I 'll set about it for My time 's uncertain and for ought I know God may not leave my soul a minute more To animate my body here below Deep fetch'd sighs and godly sorrow Shall possesse my heart to day 'T is a foolish sinne to say That I will repent to morrow What if I die before just as the tree Doth fall it lies When I am in the grave I cannot grieve for sinne nor can I be Converted unto God nor pardon crave Had I breath and grace to crave it Yet God's time of mercie 's gone 'T is giv'n in this life alone In the next I cannot have it What would I leave undone if ghâ—stly Death Stood at my elbow sure I would not wallow In those pollutions that reigne here beneath No lewd and wicked courses would I follow I should tremble at a thought Of uncleannesse if I were Sure that dreadfull time were near When I must to earth be brought Why should I sinne at all for in the act Of my next sinne a sudden Death may catch me A town secure is much the sooner sack'd What know I but God setteth Death to watch me That when any lust hath press'd me For his service that I may Down to hell without delay Death may presently arrest me If we did well still should we fear to meeâ— Death in those places where we use to sinne And as we enter think we heare the feet Of Death behind us coming softly in We should fear when sinnes delight us When we swallow any crime Lest that very point of time Justice should send Death to smite us I know whatever is on this side hell Is mercie all that we were not sent thither When we sinn'd last is mercie What befell Zimri and Cozbi as they lay together Phinchas zealous spear did thrust Both to death and bored holes To let out those guilty souls Which were melted into lust Help me O Lord to do and leave undone What thou command'st for sudden Death prepare me That at what time soe'r my glasse is run Thy holy Angels may to heav'n bear me Give thy servant grace that I May so fear the face of sinne As a serpents lest that in Th' unrepented act I die Meditation 3. DOth Death come suddenly so much the better If I am readie and do daily die So much the sooner 't will my soul unfetter T' enjoy the best degree of libertie And if Death will send me where I shall evermore remain I will never care how vain Or how frail my life is here My life is like the wind but when this 〈◊〉 Iâ— pass'd I shall eternally enjoy A place in heav'n where all is calm enough Where never blast is felt that brings annoy Where is everlasting case Not a storm nor tempest there Nor a jote of trouble where All is quietnesse and peace My life is like a vapour but assoon As this thin mist this vapour is dispersed My day shall be an undeclining noon Whose glorious brightnesse cannot be rehearsed Which will shew me for so clear And so shining is that place God immortall face to face Whom I saw but darkly herâ— My life is water spilt and cast away Upon the ground but after it is shod In stead thereof I shall a stream injoy As Crystall clear which from the throne of God And the Lamb of God proceedeth Water 't is of life and lasteth Ever which a soul that tasteth Once no more refreshing needeth My life is like a shadow that doth vanish But whensoe'r this shadow 's vanish'd quite Substantiall glories will my soul replenish And solid joyes will crown it with delighâ— The worlds are but fading joyes Shadows we all purchase here Never untill Death appear Have we true and reall joyes My life 's a flower but when it withers here It is transplanted into paradise Where all things planted flourish all the year Where Boreas never breaths a cake of ice With sweet air the place is blest There iâ— an eternall spring Thither Lord thy servant bring Here my homely Muse doth rest Nor another flight will make Till she see how this will take FINIS * Lorin. in Psalmos Tom. 1. p. 4. D. proveth it by many good witnesses