a friend That whom he loves he loves unto the end What though sometimes he seems to frowne And with rough winds to blow me down The fault 's not his but mine For he would alwaies shine On me 't is I that change My sins make him look strange Yet under his bent brow I may discover Some smiling glances which betray a lover Shewing that he desires no more But that I be as heretofore For 't is his only aime To make me stil the same To him that he may be The very same to me Lord let me thy unchanging favour find I shall not need the Sun nor fear the wind Upon a dream that he was writing his Sermon Notes upon his naked brest that very morning that was the Anniversary of his Baptism THat on the High Priests brest-plate there was wrote Urim and Thummim it was not for nought 'Mongst other ends some thought it did imply Soundnesse in 's doctrine in 's life sanctity What e're it signified his lips we know With learning should his heart with grace o'reflow Both which present him fairer farre then all The sparkling stones in Aarons Pectoral He of all Preachers surely is the best That writes his sermon first on his own brest He prints his Notes before he speaks them who What e're he teacheth is resolv'd to do Himself and thus becomâ—s a double guide Doctrine on this example on that side He that hath Esaus hand and Jacobs voice Bâ—ilds with the one with th' other he destroyes Lord thou didst first imprint thy Law within The Tables of mans heart and when that sin Defaced had those characters thou then In stonie Tables printedst them again Sâ—nce they are broken humbly I implore That thou wouldst write them in my heart once more Ne're to be blotted out that so I may Both read them and observe them every day So I thy holy Vessel shall impart A taste to others yet within my heart Retain a favour to my self and so The way I point to others I shall go So what Saint Paul strove for I shal enjoy Having taught others be no Cast-away And as thy Law is written in my mind So in thy Book let me not fail to find My name inscrib'd with thine own sacred hand Which shall indelible for eveâ— stand But why upon my Christning day this dream Presented to my fancy 'T was a Theam Fit for the day for when the soul is made Pure by that washing then a ground is laid For Gods hand-writing 't is like Virgin wax Which only his Divine Impression lacks My God baptize me once more with thy blood And since thou dost not find me make me good Wash my soul clean and that I may be knowne To be thy Child O seal me for thine own A Soliloquy upon the Circumcision commonly called New-yeers-day WAs 't not enough that God himself became Man like to me and in all things the same Excepting sin alone but he must be Under the Law and circumciz'd for me O extasie of love which for my sake The Son of God the Son of man did make Make him an infant shed some drops of blood As the first fruits to that more liberal flood That flow'd in a ful tyde from every part His hands his feete his side his head his heart Whereof a soveraign balme he did compound To heale my wounds and make my sick soul sound What present O my soul hast thou to pay Thy God What New-yeers gift this New-yeers day Give him thy self who gave himself for thee A better offering there cannot be Do somewhat like him too and circumcise The foreskin of thy heart then sacrifice Thy purer thoughts to him and now begin This day to live to grace to dye to sin An other upon the Resurrection commonly called Easter day THis day my Lord rose early from the dead Whiles I securely sleep in my soft bed Not dreaming what he did my soule to save Which lay long dead and buried in the grave Of sin Haste then my soule and take new breath From Christ to raise thee from this spiritual death Up with the break of day and break thy chains Made by thy sins and wash away thy staines In that pure fountain which was opened wide And runs yet fresh out of thy Saviours side He rising left his grave clothes all behind Do so by thine and banish from thy mind All thoughts of putting them on any more But rise as gold refined from its ore Ne're to contract more drosse from earth again Clear and unspotted as the light remain So when that Christ to judg the world shall come Thou shalt not tremble at the day of doom But boldly stand before the judg and hear The final sentence publisht without fear To thy eternal comfort he shall say Good servant enter thou thy Masters Joy A Colloquy upon the Ascension commonly called Holy Thursday The SPEAKERS ANGELS CHRIST APOSTLES Angels WHo 's this from Edom comes with garments di'd From Bozra Di'd in blood which from his side His deer side issued ' Wast not he that late But three dayes since was crucifi'd What state He marches in The clouds his Chariot are And on the wings o' th' wind he rides 't is rare We ne're beheld the like unless it were When once a fiery Chariot did bear The Prophet hither which we wondred at But this a greater wonder is then that That Prophet di'd not but alive was caught And by the power of God to heaven brought We saw each wheel supported by his hand Yea we assisted by divine command By special commission being sent To wait upon him all the way he went Besides when he the Heavens mounted had Amongst his fellow Prophets he was glad To take his Seat but this man hath the grace To sit above us all and take his place At Gods right hand to him all knees do bow Christ Cease cease your wonder and I 'l tell you how And why this is know I am God and man As man I cannot do 't as God I can As man I dy'd and lay three dayes i' th' grave As God I rose again mighty to save My self and others from deaths greedy jawes From sins inthralment and the divels clawes I trod the wine-press of Gods wrath alone And of the people there was with me none I look'd but no man helpt all from me fled Yet mine own arm mine enemies conquered And led Captivity captive now as King Of Kings I come salvation for to bring Unto my Church and graces to powr down Upon her and with glories will her crown In the mean time do you descend with speed To comfort my Disciples at their need Lo at the Mount of Olives yet they stay Still looking after me begone away Apostles Oh we have lost the sight of him no more Shall we enjoy his presence as before What will become of us who now are left To the wide world of our dear Lord bereâ—t O that we had the swift wings
hel The Antipodes WHy art so sad and sullen O my Muse That now to make a verse thou dost refuse Must thou be mov'd by a reward to raise Thy fancie up Lo here 's a sprig of Bayes To make a lawrel if that wil not do it Meere indignation wil create a Poet Art thou not angry yet at these mad times Canst thou forbeare to write Satyrick rhimes A rod is good for mad men in their fits 'T wil them restrain if not restore their wits The world is a great Bedlam where men talke Distractedly and on their heads doe walk Treading Antipodes to all the Sages And sober minded of the former ages They were content good souls with slender meat Such as their gardens yeilded they did eate A sallet bread and water fresh that ran From the next spring did dine a Gentleman They were content good souls for to be clad In skins which from the beasts backs could be had And so it did them from the cold defend It was enough they had no other end They were content to sit under the shade Of their own Vine ne're offering to invade Their neighbours or take arms them to oppresse So they their own might quietly possesse They were content with such instructions as From their own Priests and Prophets mouths did passe And with that fear and reverence did them hear As though the only oracles they were It was the golden age of the world then When merit and not mony raised men Grace was their gold their hearts were the rich mine Where vertues most transparently did shine Faces about now and behold the sceane Turn'd topsie turvie all things changed cleane No fare contents us but what 's fetcht from far And deerly bought and cookt with curious care And dainty sauces thus with art we strive Our appetites to kil and to revive We of our bellies Gods do make and thus Are gluttons beyond Heliogabulus No drink contents us but the richest wine And strongest beer which we swil in like swine Keeping no meane but quaffing round about Til all the wine 's in and the wit is out No clothes content us but the richest stuffe And costâ—iest die else 't is not gay enough Nay it is nothing worth unlesse the fashion Come like Queen Sheba from a forraign nation We change our habits like the moon our shapes With Proteus and are made the Frenchmens Apes No living wil to us contentment yeild But we must stil be laying field to field Wishing this Lordship purchasing that Farme If mony wanting be then force of arm Shal make it ours or subtiltie of wit One way or other we wil compasse it No teaching now contents us the old way The Lay-man is inspired every day Can pray and preach ex tempore he Priest With all his learning is despis'd and hist Out of the Church and some have lately fed He should be shortly brought to beg his bread We 've nothing of the golden age unlesse That Gold 's our Grace and Gaine 's our godlinesse Not manners now but monie makes a man Yea many think it makes a Christian As if none were religious but the rich And the poor body damn'd were for a witch Dost see my Muse the world turn'd upside down The Prince on foot whiles mounted is the clown The beggar now a purchaser and hee That was worth thousands brought to beggerie Dost thou behold all this and canst be mute Come take thy bow and arrowes aim and shoot The sharpest of them cast thy keenest dart At this mad age and strike it to the heart Come dip thy pen in vinegar and gall And never leave til thou hast vented all Thy just spleen on it if it stil grow worse Let it expect not thine but Gods great curse To a Gentlewoman that was extremely troubled with the Tooth-ach I Grieve and wonder so great pain You should from one smal tooth sustaine That you can neither eate nor drink Nor aâ—l the night scarce sleep a wink Yet to your comfort this I 'll say That to hell pains 't is but a toy A pleasure if compar'd it were To what the damned suffer there If in one tooth such anguish lies What torments from that fire arise This in a night or two is past But that doth infinitely last In this one member akes no more In that all members o're and o're In this the body doth but smart In that the soul too beats her part Think then that this is all the hell Which you shal feele and you are wel Upon a Passing Bel. HEark how the Passing Bel Rings out thy neighbours knel And thou for want of wit Or grace ne're think'st on it Because thou yet art well Fool in two dayes or three The same may ring for thee For deaths impartial dart Wil surely hit thy heart He will not take a fee Since then he wil not spare See thou thy self prepare Against that dreadful day When thou shalt turn to clay This bel bids thee beware Upon the setting of a Clock-Larum O What a drowzie lump of flesh is man Whose life being no longer then a span Great part of that short span is past away In sleep so that 't is hard for us to say Whether we live or no for whiles that we Repose our selves dead to our selves we be Without all motion and intelligence Till this shril Larum quicken our dulsense And make us living souls to th' day arise Like Adam when he opened first his eyes Yet this sleep 's short and sweet if we compare It to that other wherein many are Profoundly steep'd a spiritual sleep in sin The major part o' th' world is drowned in That but the Body's nap we know to be This the souls everlasting Lethargy Unlesse God waken it to that intent He hath to man a treble Larum sent His Word first from his Prophets mouth did beat A Parley and from sin sound a Retreat Saying Thou sleeper wake attention give To what I say hear and thy soul shall live Let not thy sins turn day into black night Rise from the dead and Christ shal give thee light And left this Larum should not be of force From this dead sleep in sin to raise a Course He sets a second that with secret art Besides the eare pierceth the very heart His spirit it is and when the other failes To rouze the sleepie sinner this prevailes But if his eares and heart be so fast barr'd That neither of these larums wil be heard Then sounds a third Gods judgements powring down Upon his head and making it ring noone Flashing like lightning ratling too like thunder Parting his soule and body far asunder Til so from sleep in sin he fal at last To sleep in death and in the grave is cast From which he shall not wake before he heare Th' Archangels dreadful larum in his eare Saying Arise ye dead to judgment come And from Christs mouth receive your final doome Scylla and Carybdis TWo gulfs there are 'twixt
him I could eat The Author now and sel him to buy meat Cartâ—right is Wit throughout but I read o're More then his four playes his â—ast pious four And then his several Gratitudes unto Him whose head taught him and purse fed him too Who gave him to buy books and gave him skil In each of them to chuse out Well from Ill The Learned Pious Conâ—â—ant Duppâ— hâ— Who was and is stil Reverend in those three Whom these three voice and pen and heart cannot No not Cartâ—rights own enough celebrate In these he kept Christs law lov'd God and then His next act was to pay his debt to men He did it here for this one to him wou'd Be Universal ev'â—y neighbourhood Though he out-sobers out-words out-wits all Grave Virgil Horace nice Salt Martial Yet more then in 's though unprofane verse wou'd â—â—rench my soul in his Diviner stood Those Sermons in which he did wind about Our passions more then Cicero could do 't In which he did out-sense deep Plutarchs skil And taught so wel almost all else taught ill Unlesse when 's Father Duppae 'gan to preach Who us to live and taught him too to teach Oh for that Text where he forbad to ly And prest home truth in unbound Poetry Where David like he did instil and charme Us to be honest though to our own harm Charg'd truths upon us such as do shine here In this smal volume scorn'd and damn'd elsewhere O for his Passion-text that we might buy Th' inestimable price at Sixpence fee That we that winepresse which at Edom was And Christs Church trod might taste from a new press And here we hav 't i' th' dialogue between Christ Angels and Apostles of slain sin Jesus is up again he did not die He but lay downe that death it self might lie I who this book throughout love Adore here As though all Horace was to Scaliger Precious and rich yet above all the rest He did affect his Lydia dialogue best He who t' ave made That would give Empire though A world he offer here he bids too low For as the whole is sacred and each line Though 't is not God yet it is each Divine So here 't is not Apostle only who Does speak and Angel but 't is Jesus too What would that Learnings lover now impart To speak with an Apostle heart to heart For they did not converse as some of late With face of love but with a brest of hate What would his inquisition give to hear An Angel vocally round him i' th' â—are What would he nay what would he not bestow A world almost another Jesus too To hear his own Christ speake who since sixteen Last hundred yeers was neither heard nor seen This Copy is the blessed Jesus and The rest do all as one John Baptist stand Round about this before behind each where To make that way plain for the Lord t' appear This Copy is the Word and the rest are The Voice and Eccho of this Character This is the supreme heaven without this Is heaven too and what 's in heaven Blisse But O when he does joyes of heaven tel Chearfull and without dread paines of hel Whither the Saviour Christ does convey some And whither the Judge Christ does others doome How does he with mixt artifice contrive Either for fear or love that all should live I dare not name all left I emulate The bulk of his Town with my swelling Gate APOSTROPHE To the AUTHOR YOu Sir who study and sport too this way Whose spare hours heaven and whose serious day Whose two week Sermons are to others aim Whose whole week-life is to that your own claim Who preach both waies b'Example and by Rule Whose life 's a Sermon and whose house a School Who your own self do without hire supply With breath and patterne this twin Curacy Who make each day the Lords whilst there are some Do grudge him one in seven who make your home To be his pious house whilst some there are Who scarce allow him his own house for prayer You who do read and meditate and live Scripture and thereby midst of world's frowns thrive You know they who on Gospels first word look Learn from that first word this is all the book They who proceed and search on find that this Is only Scripture all else writ amiss They who wade further yet know there 's not one Word besides this This is the Word alone And yet though nothing else is Book but what God himself made the Man not that he wrote Though nothing else be Scripture but pretence Because if not the same with this not sense Though nothing else be Word 'cause Parrots may Without this talk to as good ends as we Yet as those birds are said to come more near To what we speak then other Foules o' th' air Because they imitate our Cadencies So we do more speak when w' approach to thee Blest be the charity then of your wise choice Not to vex us with an unmatter'd Noise Since though in hundred sheets of paper he Has silent been who does not edifie Since without this though Stentor he out roare He hath said lesse then th' mad Bul or wild Boar Since without this each other book 's a crime It robs my purse and what 's more deer my time Blest be your guidance too that t' all were giv'n Both to discourse and write and Print for heav'n He that writes next this is his praise or curse He makes the Reader if not better worse But friend you often aske why 't is that I Preach to th' next ear and not to th' distant eye Why 't is that I wh'ave taskt my self a scheame In learnings own behalf forbear that Theame Pray ask no more how can you wish my heir Were come to th' birth when there 's no midwife near Copy 't once more and tel the brave Lord N. Be he Mecaenas and I wil write Then HAbes haec è manu subitaneâ prope incogitanter effusa quippe ab eo cujus nulla in instituto pars est Tibi placere qui cum caeteris Dominantis fortunae ludibriis insultibus par es undiquaque similis et Tibi constans Soli illius Approbanti Lenocinio irasceres vir aliter Pacatissâ—mus sed lectori tuo voce invitatoriâ prodesse Ejus interest non tui quod Fercula haec è Promptuario tuoenatantia ut sitiat ipse Collaudo Unum hoc mihi cujus {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} Facultatisque qualiscunque aut quanullacunque in animo est Res Angusta Domi Tumulus secundus Satis est utrumque quod est omne punctum tulisti Tu. Vale hìc sed è supra Internos Angelus ipse Tu diu Vale supra inter Affines Angelos tâ—os Semper sed Sero July 26 1653. GULIELMUS TOWERS B. D. On the Divine Poems of his friend the AUTHOR SOme say a Poet 's born not made but I Say he 's
sustaine no harme For this fire shall Like that which snatch'd away The Prophet once â—ransport them all From this worlds sorrows to a world of joy Exod. 32.10 Now therefore let me alone that my wrath may wax hot against them and that I may consume them WHat a commanding power There is in prayer Which can tower As high as heaven and tie the hands Of God himself in bands That he unable is to loose the raines To Justice til released from these chains Samson could break his cords As tow and yet the Lord of Lords Who gave that strength to Samson can Not break the cords of man Man makes his maker pray Let me alone That on this people my wrath may be shown Since then such vertue lies In prayer as will exorcise The almighty and fast bind his arms In spiritual magick charms O for another Moses now to pray That the like benefit wee might enjoy But Gods wraâ—h long hath been Against us hot a signe our sinne Cries lowder then our prayers to God Which makes him use his rod VVhen once our prayers grow more servent then We may expect they 'l bind Gods hands again Numb. 20.11 Moses lift up his hand and with his rod smote the rock twice and the water came out abundantly and the congregation drank WHat wonders this that there should spring Streams from a rock to quench a peoples thirst VVhat man alive did e're see such a thing That waters out of stone should burst Yet rather then Israel with drowth should die God by a miracle wil them supply What wonders this that from Christs side Water and blood should run to cleanse our sin This is that fountain which was opened wide To purge all our uncleannesse in But this the greater wonder is by farre As substances beyond the shadowes are Christ is that spiritual rock from whence Two Sacraments derived are to us Being the objects of our faith and sense Both receive comfort from them thus Rather then we should faint our Rock turns Vine And stayes our thirst with water and with wine But here 's another Rock my heart Harder then Adamant yet by and by If by a greater Moses struck 't wil part And stream forth tears abundantly Strike then this Rock my God double the blow That for my sins my eyes with tears may flow My sins that pierc'd thy hands thy feet Thy head thy heart and every part of thee And on the cross made life and death to meet Death to thy self and life to mee Thy every fall does save O happy strife That struck God dead but raised man to life Deut. 29.29 Secret things belong unto the Lord our God but those things which are revealed belong unto us and our children for ever that we may doe all the words of this Law THis was good doctrine once but now We not contented are to know What God thinks good for to reveale Unlesse we with Prometheus steale Some fire from heaven or commit A rape on Pallas Divine Wit Or pick Joves lock and secrets get Out of his closest Cabinet We with the Bethshemites dare pry Into Gods Ark and cast an eye Within the Vaile although that wee Or blinde or dead strait stricken be Such boldnesse wel deserves to have No eyes or else a suddaine grave He that would know more then is fit Forfeits his life as wel as wit And while he seeks what God hath hidden He eats againe the fruit forbidden So striving to be overwise Is justly banisht Paradise But if we would know safely more Let 's practise what we knew before Not search his secret wil into But his revealed let us doe 'T is that concerns us most the way To understand is to obey 1 Sam. 17.37 David said moreover The Lord that delivered me out of the paw of the Lion and out of the paw of the Bear he wil deliver me out of the hand of this Philistin WHy should I doubt Gods providence Or fear hee 'le not protect me in my wayes Since he his goodnesse stil to me displayes And proves it by experience One day another certifies and saith Each several Mercy doth confirm my faith His former favours earnests are Of future he that sav'd mee from the Bear Would not permit the Lyon me to teare And he that of me took such care As from the Lyons paw to set me free Will from this Philistine deliver me Lord from a fiercer Lyon thou Hast saved me by thine almighty power I mean that Lyon which sought to devour My soul and body Shall I now Suspect that thou who spar'dst me from the divel Wilt let me perish by a lesser evil I am resolv'd to fear no more What man can do though he Golia be Much less a Bear or Lyon though I see Him ne're so much against me roare I have so oft been rescued by thine arm That I believe nothing shall do me harme JOB 29.14 I put on Righteousnesse and it clothed me 'T Was sin brought shame into the world til then There was no nakednesse 'mongst men And till they put on Righteousnesse they wil Though clad in Gold be naked stil They may their clothes change every day yet find That clothes they want unless they change their mind The newnesse of the fashon's not enough Nor yet the richnesse of the stuff To cover the souls nakednesse within Whiles t is deform'd with deadly sin The gallant without grace for all his brags Is worse attir'd then truth that goes in rags What matter is 't if that his body be Adorn'd with all the bravery His wealth can compasse or his wit invent For all this costly ornament If he be destitute of Righteousnesse To clothe his soul hee 's naked ne're the lesse God looks into my inside and if there He see that I do vertue weare And that the habits of my mind are white As Innocence and clear as Light Then he invites me as a proper guest Being thus apparrel'd to his marriage feast Now Lord since mine own righteousnesse wil be Too short a robe to cover me For who alas with so great store is clad But he to borrow may be glad Do thou some of thine owne on me bestow That 's long enough for both of us I know Psalm 4.3 But know the Lord hath set apart him that is godly for himself BEhold an holy Separatist Whose sanctiâ—y doth not consist In setting of himself apart Both from the world and his own heart With a keepâ—back as if that none Must neer him come but stands alone Like the disdainful Phaâ—isee That thinks no man so good as he No he himself doth most despise And humble is in his own eyes So ful of meeknesse and so mild As is the newly weaned child His faith though firm is lowly built Judging his own not others guilt This humble minded man God deems So highly of so well esteems That he divides him from the rest And in him impropriates for the best To his own
of a Dove To fly unto the bosome of our Love There we should rest securely from all harmes Embracing and embraced in his armes But what is this behold another sight Two men or Angels rather clad in white Angels Leave gazing thus ye men of Galilee For this same Jesus you shall shortly see Returne again in the same manner as You now beheld him hence to Heaven pass He 's gone but to prepare for you a place Against the time that you have run your race Leave wishing too for wishes will not raise You to the mansions of those endlesse joies Where he resides but let your thoughts all bend In heavenly conversation to ascend Follow his holy steps for so you shall Have your Ascension bodie soul and all Apostles We thank you for your counsel and obey This having said they all depart away Th' Angels to heaven th' Apostles homeward went Expecting when the Spirit should be sent And they endu'd with power from the Lord To save the world by preaching of the Word Upon all Saints day SUch honour have all the Lords Saints that we Keep this day holy to their memorie And reason good for they examples are To us in life and death of vertues rare For though all vertues in some measure met In all the saints as lines i' th' center yet Some special grace in every one did dwel Wherein each one the other did excel Thus Abram for his Faith was most renown'd Job for his singular Patience was crown'd Moses for Meeknesse did all men surpasse Elias for his Zeale most famous was David is for an Upright heart commended Josias for a Tender heart transcended John the Evangelist for Charity And John the Baptist for Austerity Saint Paul for his Humility surmounted When chief of sinners he himself accounted And least of all th' Apostles though indeed For pains and parts he did the rest exceed Peter for Penitence the prize doth bear Who for his sinne shed many a bitter teare Now as their life to us serves for a light So is their death most precious in Gods sight By that we learn to live by this to die By both we come to immortality Since then they are such happy guides wel may We solemnize at least one annual day Unto their honour yet not guiltie be Of superstition or Idolatry When we observe this day we do no more Then reverence them as Saints not them adore God's the sole object of our invocation They but the pattern for our imitation And 't is our prayer alwaies on this day That we their godly living follow may Til we with them at last come to partake Of joyes unspeakable for Christ his sake Whiles thus we celebrate this festival None can us justly superstitious cal To Christ A Poem of Hugo Grot. Sil. lib. 1. p. 10. Translated O Christ which art the head of every thing From whom a better life then this doth spring Thy Fathers measure yet unmeasured Whom whiles that he himself contemplated In his high mind he streams forth light of light And sees himself in 's equal image bright Like whom the world and the worlds guardian man Was made but O he suddainly began To be rebellious his high honour lâ—st And prest with crimes which him most deerly cost Becoming guilty of the greatest pain In this state lay and had for ever laine But that thy Father his case pitying did Give thee who with himself before wast hid Under concealed light eternal love Unto his Church did him to mercy move His truth by dreams he wil reveal no more Nor visions by his Prophets as before But willing now a living Law to make And lasting league with men lo thou didst take A mortal body and a man-like face Yet not begot the way of humane race By filthy lust but thou conceived wast By power divine born of a Virgin chaste Though thou no purple hadst to cloth thee then Bâ—ing newly born nor bands of armed men To compasse thee about and be thy guard Yet Citizens of heaven keep watch and ward And divine Anthems sang about thy stal More royal thus then any Princes Hall The beasts and shepherds thee incircled there Poor but far happier then all Kings they were In that they knew thee thou a new come guest Wert by thy heaven to earth made manifest The Magi stood amaz'd a starre to see Ne're seen before how great say they is he That 's born to honour whom new stars appear Yee â—erie signes of heaven your light forbear Forbeare ye wandring stars and Charls his Wayne To guide the Passengers upon the Maine For through the various waves of things below And life's uncertainties this Star doth show The way not that which unto Babylon brings Proud in the Courts of her Arsâ—oian Kings Nor to the Palaces of Tibur stout Nor to Jerusalem's turrets but points out The Cottages of Bethlehem and the door Of shepherds tents Jewes seek your King no more Amongst the Cornets and the Trumpets sound And th' Arms wherewith mans furie doth surround Himself ye know not wretches as ye be How neer a thing to heaven is povertie How sweet to suffer tel the Parthians now Goe tel the Romans tel your Herod how Hee 'll make the blind to see the lame to walk Hee 'll make the deaf to hear the dumb to talke Hee 'll heal all plagues and sicknesses with ease By 's word not herbs and calm the raging seas Thousands he wil with little food sustain Himself long time with none and raise again The dead make water wine at his command And walk upon the sea as on dry land Let them whom jewels deck let Martial men Try if they can perform the like again These my poor Christ can doe nor doth he cure Bodies alone but minds of men make pure Purges their brests that are possest with sin And heals the plague-sick world which we live in Thus a right way he takes whiles those that stand And mightie are he puls down with his hand Those that are weak and fallen he erects But look what stirrs i' th' heavens What strange aspects And strife of things Whiles so great good in thee Is recompenc'd with hateful crueltie Not by the Sythian or the barbarous men Of Affrick or the north Pole Citizen But by good Abrahams off-spring who alone Of all the nations was thy chosen one Such mischiefe black ambition can do Whiles't being incens'd with pride and hatred too It rages under faigned piety A simple fate thou didst not perish by But as a thief thou di'dst though innocent To undergoe our sin and punishment The sins of all the world did lye on thee Since Adam ate of the forbidden tree From that first hour to this they prest thee all On us those bonds on us those blowes should fall Those sharp black thorns should prick our temple veins The Sergeant should us drag to endlesse pains The nails should pierce our hands the spear our side And we without delay