Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
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A16822
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The vveeping lady: or, London like Niniuie in sack-cloth Describing the mappe of her owne miserie, in this time of her heauy visitation; with her hearty prayers, admonition, and pious meditations, as the occasions of them offer themselues in her passion. Written by T.B.
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T. B. (Thomas Brewer)
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1625
(1625)
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STC 3722; ESTC S104667
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9,255
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25
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THE WEEPING LADY OR LONDON LIKE NINIVIE IN SACK-CLOTH Describing the Mappe of her owne miserie in this time of Her heauy Visitation with her hearty Prayers Admonition and Pious Meditations as the occasions of them offer themselues in Her PASSION Written by T. B. Lord haue mercy on vs. Weepe Fast and Pray Printed at London by B. A. and T. F. for MATHEVV RHODES and are to be sold by Nath Browne in the Long Walke neere Christ Church 1625. THE EPISTLE TO the READER COurteous Reader Briefly thus If looking in my Booke you see Men imprison'd in their owne Houses and abroad none if heere you see a multitude of Crosses and abroad none if heere their equall number of Bils with LORD HAVE MERCIE VPON VS and abroad none and shall say Thus they haue beene but are not I answere That they Haue is enough why they are not I know not that they yet might be we all know in the losse of Husbands Wiues Children Seruants Kindred our Neighbours and common Acquaintance A wound smarts no lesse couer'd then discouer'd For some decrease in the number let vs praise God and pray to God for the continuance of this mercy begun till this sad Visitation be ended My intent in erecting this poore Monument of Misery was to make this Ladies Teares out-liue Her Teares That when by the infinite Mercies of God they shall bee wip'd off and all Her Sores made whole we may in the view of this and other more worthy Remembrances of Her re-view them in them those infinite Mercies and in both be made mindfull of them end eternally thankfull for them Which God grant Thine THO BREVVER Lord haue mercy on vs. Weepe Fast and Pray TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFVLL GENErous and euer-worthy Louer of Goodnesse and Pious Endeauours WALTER LEIGH Esquire SWORD-BEARER to the Honourable LORD-MAIORS of this Famous Citie of LONDON Right Worthy Sir A Sad Sharer of the common miseries of these sad times prompted by his owne Sorrowes ha's though too weak a Pencil-Man for such a Piece vndertaken to draw that Sorrow to the Life that ha's drawne many thousands to Death my Title speaks my meaning The Wounds of this VVEEPING LADY To haue drawne Her in her Health the Idea or Conceptions of the most pure and pregnant VVits might haue been deficient such was Her Beauty Her Splendor such were her change of Colours Glorious within and without in Embroydered Garments But now such is her Change Shee ha's no Change wearing only one Suit and that the sad habit of Mourning In thus presenting Her I present you with nothing but grones Sighs tears shreaks folding of armes bearing of brests wringing of hands pale looks deiected eies bleeding hearts most heauy bitter condolements How vnpleasing this might be to many I am not ignorant but imboldned by that of the Preacher The Heart of the Wise is in the House of Mourning c. my hopes are faire of her fauorable and gracious receiuing To whom better to present this Lady of so many Honourable Lords then to your worthy Selfe I know not your Worship hauing been to many now to This Her Last equall in fame with any from Her First a prime and much respected Officer beating the Sword that most impartially guards Her and wounds Her Enemies Shee is now on the mending hand and our hope in Him that what he wil doe can doe is strong for the dayly decrease of her sorrowes the speedy returne to Her solace and fulnesse of Beauty and lustre For which among many Thousands of Her afflicted Sons and Daughters incessantly praying I rest Euer Bound to your VVorshiâ—â— pleasure T. B. THE WEEPING LADY OR LONDON LIKE NINIVIE in SACK-CLOTH IERIM 9.21 Death is come vp into our windowes and entered into our Houses LIke tender Plants beate with too great a showre Or like a Tree that 's blasted or a Flowre Pluckt from the Roote Decembers gloomy shade The Sunne ecclips'd Youth to disease betraid Or like to any thing that Chance or Time Or Heauens iust Anger scourges in the Prime Disroabing it of Ornament of Grace And seating what 's opponent in their place Sits now the Mistresse Lady of her kinde That Queene whose Beauty did attract the minde Of All to see it to admire to loue And in their Functions serue it to approue Her worth and their owne duties ó like these Or sadder Figures of Her sad disease Lies London now beate blasted wither'd shooke Of strangers pittied of Her owne forsooke But to diuide Her sorrowes and to bring The wounds sighes teares and each particular sting Of Her afflicted Bosome to your Eye Liues not in my Intention Nor if I Had such a Will had I the power to speake My Griefe for Hers too strong makes me too weake Her selfe doe that for what 's in Sorrowes breast The Bearer of it can decipher best I onely drawe the Curtaine and thus show This Queene of Cities now the Queene of woe London the Anatomizer of Her owne miseries as out of a broken slumber thus speakes HOw saine would Sorrow sleepe But as my Head Would touch the Pillow of that downy Bed The mournfull sound of sighings of deepe groues Vision of Teares and vniuersall mones That doe present themselues before me keepe That Comfort from me and command me weepe Her Bells continually Towling O Heare the Instruments my soule did loue My Bells that summon to the Spouse the Doue The Oracle of Heau'n Now sadly sound Nothing but frightfull summons to the ground Nothing but calls to Death nothing but Knells All notes of Griefe for All are passing Bells Nay more to adde to my Affrights affright Death will haue all Times minutes and by Night Command this dolefull Towling as by Day We know who sends him and we must obey What change there is in all things vnder Fate How sadly now they found And but of late When their shrill voyces did proclaime the Gaine Of Englands Heart out of the Hate of Spaine What Dulcet sounds they had And while they plaid To th'mounting flame of Bonfires that were made Ioying His safe Arriuing Since that Time What musicke made they when the pride and prime Of all her Sex MARIA in our Land Made Her most wisht Arriuall Hand in Hand Ioyning two royall Sisters to Aduance The Glories of them both Great Britaine France But I too farre in this Digression goe My joy almost made me forget my woe The woes of my disease The Sore that treads My Beauty vnder foot The Sore that spreads O're all my Happinesse The Sore that makes Me to be loath'd and left The sore that takes My Sonnes and Daughters from me And the Sore That makes this mournfull musick sound all o're My spatious Circuit round about my Walls For round about them are the dreadfull Calls Of Death in their sad language Had we heard Their Calls vnto the Temple and prepar'd Zeale and Diuine affection that the word Sowne in our soules
might as it ought afford A fruitfull Haruest of good workes no doubt We had not heard these clangors flye about Thus to affright to wound vs. But 't is Iust Those sounds we would not heare these sounds we must Till Heau'n be pleas'd to still'em That He may Le ts flye to meet him Weepe and Fast and Pray The Graues still greedily gaping O See like wounds digg'd in my tender side My multitude of Graues that gaping wide Are hourely fed with Carcasses of Men Those hardly swallowed they 'le be fed agen Gorg'd with my Sonnes and Daughters as if Hee All things were made for were but made to be A prey to wormes As if the end of Birth Were 〈◊〉 to cry to labour and in Earth Haue his eternall period As if Breath Were a Childes bubble and the sport of Death For so Hee triumphs now so now He kills So empties Houses so the Graue he fills Those Tenements of his Where many lye Too many manyes not like things that dye Assur'd in their Redeemer that they shall Rise to a Beeing whence they ne're can fall But I ha' done Passion thy power is strong The rest in weeping teares are sorrowes Tongue Sleepe sleepe in peace my Children in your dust Wee see what t' is to brittle life to trust And Her still fayling Adjuncts For thus fades The Pompe of flesh And enter'd those darke shades From Court or from the Village All are one Degrees in Life there are in Death there 's none Her Houses their Masters Prison O See my Sonnes and Daughters that suruiue Their Houshold massacr'e halfe dead aliue In their owne Houses buried or as bad Enjayl'd imprison'd In that passion clad That to behold them makes Affection wring My Heart to Blood mine Eyes into a spring Maternall loues Companions See the Wife Sadly bemone the losse of halfe Her life I' th' losse of her poore Husband See her sit While sighes doe sighes and teares doe teares beget Ready to follow him from this sad vale To His eternall Mansion See the pale And gastly seate of death vpon the face Of Husbands for their Wiues Behold the Race Of griefe in Parents for the sad depart Of Sonnes and Daughters Sonnes and Daughters smart To see the stroake this strange Disease doth giue Vpon those Liues by which they Be and Liue. See them debard all meetings of delight See them debard society and sight Of Kindred and Familiars See them there Bard the best pleasure that doth Passion cheare Their Recreatiue walkes losing their share Of what all taste the sweet and wholsome Ayre A poore mans only physicke See them loose The benefits of those poore Trades they vse To summe vp all their miseries in one See them i' th' Dongeon of laments and mone Yet thus it must be by the Lawes and Loue Of me their Citie and of that Aboue For 't is by Heau'n commanded Thou great God That more delightst in Mercy then thy Rod. Ioyning them both together be to these In their need plenty in their Languor ease And in the midst of this infectious flame Let thy good Angell come and be the same To them and me their Mother that He was To those i' th' midst of burning Flames did passe Vntouch'd or vnoffended In thy Hand Is Life and Death All power in thy Command Her Multitude of Crosses O See me full of Crosses see and weepe To see the Crosse thus like a Gangrene creepe From part to part vpon me Nor i st strange Wee weare these Crosses they are Heau'ns exchange Of Crosses with 's Wee Crosses had before The Rich-mans Crosse vpon the hungry Poore In griping and ingrossing which to quit Need ha's agen with a dexterious Wit Crost them in Cheats and Theeuing Woe is me The many Crosses of a Terme to see Strange Crosses in strange Cases Then a sleight The Crosse of Measure and the Crosse of Weight The Crosse of honest-seeming to deceiue The Crosse of Swearing to make men beleeue What Truth is rackt to looke on And for these Crosses of Sinne the Crosses of Disease Sticke like a brand vpon 's vpon vs fall The First on many but the Last on All. But to the Crosse agen which doth present In all but in my Sorrowes all Content Saint George his Crosse Englands the Badge of Ioy Is heere the Badge of Him that doth destroy No Champion euer like Him For His power In thousand Places Thousands in one Hower Turnes to the Pit before Him Gainst this losse O lets petition Heau'n and that this Crosse This Viol full of Anger may bee staid Which till it be by the Almighty laid Wee patiently must beare it 'T is decreed For Hee for Vs vpon a Crosse did bleed Has told vs plainly we His Crosse must beare Or nere ascend His Dwelling Where no care No Chance no Change Time or Defection dwels But All so full of Glory it excels The Compasse of Mans thought Toth' Crosse we then Add Lord haue Mercy vpon vs All. AMEN O See my Termes cut off in them the Law That eeuen Line Iustice her selle doth draw Guiding to pious dealing Like a Mute Nor hinder wrong nor help a rightfull Suite While my Infection spreads Woes woe succeed Of all Demurres heere 's a Demurre indeed ¶ See how the City ha's disturbd the Court How my Disease ha's troubled the Import And weighty Businesses of that High Seat Where Royall Charles and his graue Synod treat The grounds of all our safety And at last Dissolu'd that Royall meeting heere and plac'd Mine and my Sisters Dignity and Grace Vpon a Handmaid to vs. Ore which Place Thou God of Mercy all thy Mercies spread And there and heere and euery where strike dead This All-deuouring Monster Let thy loue Make this an Act in thy great Court aboue ¶ O See how my Disease has seem'd to checke The loue and dutie is prepar'd to decke My streetes with stately Pageants Things should weare Much Cost much Art and in their structures beare The fulnesse of Inuention where the Eye May feast it selfe on the varity Of specious Formes and Figures and the Eare The soule of all those rich Inuentions heare Deliuer'd in Choyce language I presume That thus they shall be when they shall assume Their costly Robes preparing But alas They yet stand bare and naked and men passe By them as by my selfe for that Disease That dyms my lustre has denyed it these And all those Beauties my large Bounds embrace Repaire sweet Mercy what sad frownes deface O see how thicke these shafts of vengeance flye How thicke they fall how thicke Men fall and dye Which way so e're we turne vs If your eyes Can see for Teares see how this Tyrant plyes The cruell part Hee 's acting How He sweepes Whole Familyes before him and then keepes In dismall emptinesse Possession there Where life