impudent face said unto him I have peace offerings with me this day have I payd my vowes Therefore came I forth to meet thee diligently to seek thy face and I have found thee I have deckt my bed with coverings of Tapestry with carved workes with fine linnen of Egypt I have perfumed my bed with myrrhe aloes and cynamen Come let us take our fill of love untill the morning let us solace our selves with loves For the good man is not at home he is gone a long journey Proverbs 7. vers 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19. But what is she end of all this if we look on the end of the chapter we shall see the end of the Adulterer Her house is the way to hell going down to the chambers of death verse 27. Thou dost not dreame thou shalt be blasted I tell thee ere long thou shalt be lopt off and flung into eternity I grant thou hast aspired to the top of thy Olympick Palace but thou shalt shortly fall thy life hath beene at best but a Tragicomedy and thou hast acted the fools part with pleasure but I tell thee death ere long shall strike the Epilogue and thou shalt goe away Secondly the Drunkard is a barren Branch Woe to the crowne of pride to the drunkards of Ephraim whose glorious beauty is a fading flowre which are on the head of the fat valleyes of them that are overcome with Wine Isaiah 28. vers 1. Thou Drunkard that carowsest care away and on thy Ale-bench blasphemest the God of Heaven that takest no felicity but in swinish company and knowest no other happines but the colour of the wine thou burdenest the earth thou inflamest the fire thou infectest the aire thou art as a flowre drowned with the dew of Heaven and bowest thy glory to the earth goe drunkard take thy fill of Wine untill the morning but I tell thee the houre is comming when it may be the hand of Heaven shall write thy doom upon the plaister of the wall Daniell 5.25 26. ere long thou mayst Read MENE MENE TEKEL UPHARSIN God hath numbred thy dayes and finisht them and being found too light thy glory is departed from thee then shall thy loynes be loosed thy countenance changed and thy false heart affrighted thou that drinkest iniquity like water I tell thee ere long thou shalt wash thy selfe away thy fruit is already withered and thou shalt be lopt from the Vine Thirdly the Robber is a barren Branch Leviticus 19. vers 11. Thou that by the Art of Leger-de-maine adoptest every mans goods thine owne I know thou wouldst have joy without sorrow wealth without want fruit without faith and life without death but remember the pitcher at last comes broken home There is a way seemes right in the eyes of man but the end thereof is the path of death Proverbs 14. vers 12. What though thou hast wheel'd off fairly once or twice or thrice yet thou shalt shortly fall Agememnon after all his 10 yeares wars at Troy was slain in one night among his freinds at Greece The valiant Hector whose temples were so often archt in a victorious Orbe while he was quitting his Countrey with gallantry and affronting his enemies in the height of bravery received in a moment the Embassage of death and upon the ground measured out his grave The mighty Achilles whose arme seemed a Postilion of death was slaine at last by a little winged Arrow and sent to his long home Tell me thou that canst draw thy sword and bid defiance upon the high way to truth and fidelity where lies thy brother Caine or Akan or Judas or Ahab does not their glory grovill in the ground or are they not sweltring in eternall flames It may be thou hast endured many a blast but there may come a blast ere long that may puffe thee quite away Thou that art acquainted with the Law so well that thou canst sometimes confute the Reverend Judges and yet performest never a tittle thereof believe mee thou canst not plead with death hee will come with a Habeas corpus and remove thee to eternity Forasmuch as thou art found unfruitfull in the Vineyard thou shalt be cut from the Vine and have thy portion in that lake of terrour where time shall be no more Fourthly the lyar is a barren Branch Leviticus 19. vers 11. Why boastest thou thy selfe in mischiefe O mighty man the goodnesse of God endureth continually Thy tongue deviseth mischiefes like a sharpe rasor working deceitfully Thou lovest evill more then good and lying rather then to speake righteousnesse Selah Thou lovest all devouring words O thou deceitfull tongue God shall likewise destroy thee for ever he shall take thee away and pluck thee out of thy dwelling place and root thee out of the Land of the living Psalme 52 vers 1 2 3 4 5. Thou that so oft dost call the God of heaven who is truth it selfe to witnesse to a lie tell me thou sordid peece of earth canst thou blinde the eies of heaven or canst thou draw a curtaine before the face of the most high does not his eie see thee does not his eare heare thee does not his heart ponder thy waies tell me is he excluded any where that can be comprehended no where if thou goest to heaven he is there if downe to hell he is there if thou take the wings of the morning and flye to the uttermost parts of the earth from thence the hand of God shall find thee out Come thou lyar Read the story of Ananias and Sapphira Acts 5. vers 1 2 3 4 5 5 7 8 9 10. The tree withers soone away that is perisht at the Root and thou shalt shortly fall who art rotten at the heart Alas thou art nothing but a walking shaddow a guilded peece of aire whose wealth is but poverty whose bravery but vanity whose truth infidelity and thou shalt ere long be â—hut out of eternity Revelation 22. vers 15. thy present tense ere long shal be made a preterimperâ—ectense and it shall shortly be said of thee he was and is not yet a little while and thou shalt be no more but shalt fade as the withering grasse and wither as the dying flowre Fifthly the Sabbath breaker is a barren Branch Ye shall keep my Sabbath therefore for it is holy unto you every one that breaketh it shall be cut off from among his people for whosoever doth any worke therein that soule shall surely be put to death Six dayes may worke be done but the seventh day is the Sabbath of rest holy to the Lord whosoever doth any worke therein shall surely be put to death Wherefore the Children of Israell shall keep the Sabbath to observe the Sabbath throughout their generations for a perpetuall memory It is a Covenant between me and the Children of Israeâ— for ever for in six dayes the Lord made heaven and earth and on the seventh day he rested and was refreshed Exod.
a distracted dreame while all your golden imaginations vanish into aire What is the silver Mine what is the golden Ore what is the worlds dignity what is beauties rarity what is the pride of pleasure what is a blast of honour the first is vexation the second delusion the third a distraction the fourth brings the worldling to a fooles paradice and hee that hath the last is but a glorious slave Mee thinkes as when the Gyants warred against heaven and with their imperious lookes threatned the Palace of Olimpick Jove till from his golden sphere hee lasht their folly and puft out their bravery by hurling against their mountaines hasty thunderbolts from his angry arme even so the worlds Peacocks children of transgression sonnes of Rebellion the pride of nature and the scorne of art befooled in folly besotted in security sinne in dispite of heaven till with his angry breath hee sweepes them from the world laying their glory groveling in the silent grave Poore heaven borne soule no winde blowes faire for thee but all thy life is a continued ill thou art borne in a tempest and art hurryed through a storme while thou wandrest through this vale of teares and while thou saylest through this red sea of sorrow so have I seene a weather-beaten vessell torne by the fury of the surges tost from wave to wave by the confused mellody of threatning scas roaring windes fiery flashes horrid thunder and the darkened ayre continually in restlesse motion sometimes by an angry billow flung up to heaven and in a moment plunging downe againe seemes to bee swallowed in the furious Ocean as if nature to set forth the rarity of union who would shew to man the harmony of confused elements Art thou a child of heaven thou shalt bee then a sonne of sorrow thinke not too much to suffer if thou makest account to Reigne if thou wilt have a Crowne of Royalty be patient in suffring adversity The way to heaven is through a fiery Lake thy treasure shal be torment thy wealth shall be want thy portion poverty thy beauty deformity Thy adoption fore-runs thy extremity and thy conversion is a Prologue to a following Tragedy The World indeed is full of deceit nor will she favour any but her owne and on them she confers pleasures and profits honour preferment beauty glory wealth and case She sets them on her idle knee and charmes the Worldling to a glorious slumber While the godly sits all day dispised disgrac'd afflicted tormented with his watry eyes bent on the Earth and his silent groanes piercing heaven the unfrequented places are his delight and the melancholliest passions are his best musique In which the poore soule mutters to himself these or the like speeches SOULE Ah me how am I hurried to and fro in the valley of this shaddow of death how am I tossed from misery to adversity from trouble to torment from temptation to affliction my life is almost spent and what will the Lord do with mee if hee doe with me what he please if he throw mee into hell I will lay my hand upon my mouth and be silent for ever for I have been unthankfull unholy unfruitfull unprofitable discourtious disloyall ungratious rebellious But will the Lord be angry for ever and hath hee forgotten to bee gracious or is his loving kindnesse quite decayed My Lord Jesus Christ he is gone to Heaven where he is crowned in Majesty and glory and every day he takes one or another after him And heere he leaves me to feede on Wormewood and drinke the poyson of Aspes Alas poor soule what findest thou what knowest thou what seest thou in this vaine world is not her beauty momentany and all her glory transitory Why was I borne to be an object of cruelty a Map of misery the mockery of Art the scorne of nature or being borne why died I not in my sad mothers arms Well soule lament no more wait but a while and thy sorrow shall be converted into joy thy mourning into praising thy emptinesse into fullnesse thy low poverty into high dignity thy short suffering of the worlds hate to the embraces of eternall love thy time to eternity thy misery into glory Alas the joy of the wicked is as the thornes in the fire the bubble in the water the flowers in the earth the Clouds in the Aire they blaze and consume they flourish and fade they vanish and fly away but thou for a few angry frownes shalt have everlasting joyes for earths indignity shalt weare the Robes of Royalty and for a moments heavinesse shalt be crowned in eternall happinesse Though here thou walkest sadly and drivest on heavily piercing the aire with thy sighes and watering thy cheeks with thy teares mourning and weeping for the absence of thy beloved when he hath withdrawne himselfe and is gone Yet hold up thy head with joy for thy redemption draweth neare Thou shalt meet him in Elisium and arme in arme walke through the hallowed Courts and change a thousand kisses canst thou not tarry a little time canst thou not persevere a minute canst thou not suffer a moment canst thou not watch one houre would it not bee worth thy paines if after all thy troubles on earth to arive at heaven there the poore Pilgrimme may rest his tyred limbes in the sweet lullabies of ever blessed eternity where there is joy without sorrow health without sicknesse wealth without want fulnesse without famine love without labour life without death Arise my Love my Dove my faire one and come away Canticles 2. vers 13. The AUTHOR I. GOe tired Mariner go hoyst up sayle The weather will no more be contrary The winde blowes prosperous with a pleasant Gale The angry aire ne more will vary The heavens are faire thy journey cannot faile Vp weather-heaten Voyager why dost tarry Where safer O! where safer canst thou be Then in so sweet an arme soule this is he Whose power uncurls the wav's calms the furious sea CHRIST II. Rise Phoeb and come away the head-strong day Rides in his glorious Orb the night is gone The slowers appeare the little Lambes doe play And glittering Sol does kisse the torrid zone The carelesse wandring flocks are gone astray Vpon the hills and love is lest alone Come lye in my soft bosome where no feare Can break thy dreame why doest thou flumber here Awake my purest Love arise my fairest Deare III. Rise Phoeb ' and come away this Sun-shine morn We 'le travell through the fairest teritories Where in some flowry Garden I 'le adorne Thy brow with love I 'le tell thee what those glories Are that crown eternity I will not scorne To tell my suffrings and my passion stories Let me infold thee in my loving armes If thou wilt rest secure from numerous harmes Arise my fairest dear love strikes his lowd alarms IV. Rise Phoeb ' and come away how sweet a smell Comes from th' Arabian hills my pritty Love The little birds warble their musique
then thou among the rest of those dreadfull Comets appointed for horrour shalt fry for ever in this unquenchable fiery Chaos But here 's good newes now for thee that art prepared to dye thou poore soule that standest upon thy watch tower expecting the dawning of the day thou sayest my Love he dwells in Heaven that hath Captivated my heart with the glory of his Graces before whom I offer up my hourly oblations with silent teares from these my weeping eyes but sure he regards me not but leaves me here as a monument of misery or an object of the worlds soorne remember poore soule All flesh is grasse and grasse you know hath no long continuance on the ground believe me thou shalt shortly goe thou mayst heare thy beloved almost every day telling thee thy time is but short and thou shalt ere long be transpoâ—ted to eternity thou mayest heare his sweet voice to charme thine eares though thou canst not see his face to wound thy heart thou receivest love-Letters from him but yet thou canst not see him for this wall of flesh doth stand between but ere long it shall be taken downe that you may enter together in Communion and talke of the time of trouble that you may inherit eternall joyes while your eyes shoot equall flames that you may ravish in the sweetest embraces and lose your selves in love And further by these my sonne be admonished of making many bookes there is no end and much study is a wearinesse of the flesh Let us heare the conclusion of the whole matter Feare God and keep his Commandements for this is the whole duty of man Eccles 12. vers 12 13. I. ALas and is this all come spur away My Muse and let 's have done before the day Be downe let 's leave the Helliconian springs And sacred Delphice let our untuned stringe Be screw'd up higher yet untill our eares Can counterfeit the Musique of the spheares Then drown your selves no more this glorious prize Is given free the purchase cannot rise From floods of flowing teares no more my wearied eyes II. But does the Crowne of high immortall glory Arch his victorious browes that keeps this story True Yea and his undefiled soule shall shine Like Stars of the first magnitude divine And glorious ornaments he shall weare And sit inthroned above the hemisphere In a garb of purest gold this is the same That Heaven Will honour and his honored name Shal live and rise up higher then the trump of fame III. Foole that I was because the verse was soone Read o're I thought 't was easily done But thou O Lord that mad'st this little span Of earth must recollect poore uncollected man Keepe thy commands O Lord Is it not more Then all the World can doe am I before Them all Oh drown these unregenerate eyes that shine Too cleare that I may offer to thy shrine A shower of teares for every drop of blood of thine IV. Oh I am lost how shall poore I aspire Thine Altar Without diviner fire Whose hallowed smoake may make a sacred fume Before thy throne Ah how dare I presume To come Thou shalt have power from above I le be thy Lord and thou shalt be my Love Onely confesse thy sinnes and I le adorne Thy brow with beauty teach thee how to scorne The World and make thee fairer then the fairest morne V. Well then my honoured Lord I le come and trye To tread the path of immortality Oh that my wandring eyes could see the way That I might travell to it every day Where once arrived our lips shall strike up loves Alarmes in the blest hallowed Groves Doe soule shun death for earth is transitory True Lord But shall I if I keep this story Live I 'le give thee life wrapt in immortall glory VI. Too soone I wandred in an unknowne way Till I was almost lost had not the day Star rise to guide my wandring Orbe for all My power I had stoop'd to the imperiall thrall Of some temptation which had cryed aloud To Heaven and left me in a sable Cloud I knew not then to whom I could repaire To have one houre of ease but now my care Being past I 'le put a period to a well-tun'd aire The last SOLILOQUIE Or The Authours Farewell THE day breakes glorious in our darkened Orbe t is an illustrious morne cleare up my glimmering eyes Ah me now I see how much I was abused I wondred indeed the way to Heaven should be so hard and that such extremity should lye in the path to immortality alas I was befool'd it is not care can conquer a kingdome nor industry winne the Crowne of glory it is not heavinesse that workes holinesse nor holinesse that merits happinesse nor can the price of labour purchase the Palace of Love I wonder not now why the skilfull Astronomer has beene misguided by his star and why the fancies of the Learned Poets have been befool'd alas can ingenuity merit eternity no t is love t is love that unlocks the gate of glory Poore man where is thy power now that with thy triangle heart invelopest the water buildest Castles in the aire backest the windes devourest the earth and sometimes darest Heaven yet when thou commest to trye thy force a feather will scarce wag at thy fury alas though thou crawlest thou canst not climbe though by thy feare thou mayest rule on earth yet without Faith thou shalt not Raigne in Heaven though by thy policy thou mayest comprehend all things yet by thy power thou canst command nothing Hence let your wing'd battlements grapple goe vaile your transitory glory let your dignity lye downe and dye let him that has the most rarity study humility and be like a monument cut out of marble let the Astrologer put no confidence in Astronomy nor the Naturalist study curiosity let the learning of the Law be turned to the language of love and yet let the sweet lipt Orator lay downe his Rhetorick and plead no more it is not the language of learning nor a life of labour nor ingenuity nor sidelity nor greatnesse nor gallantry nor profit nor pleasure nor glory nor honour it is not a garment of gold nor a lofty looke nor the charming tongue nor the inchanting eye nor the fairest face nor the heroick heart nor the conquering arme that can win heaven no these doe but chaine thee to the world and hinders the soule from climbing up the Ladded to his Joy I should rather looke for heat in painted fire then think to finde ability in the creature I should rather believe the winde comes but to fanne us with a gentle gale when Eolus unlocks his blustering Gates and rocks the world in a tempestuous storme or that the Cloudes doe but shade us from the flaming Chariot of the Sunne when by their thundering noises they seeme to crack the Axeltrees of the World and by their dismall darknesse banish out the day or that the Sea when he furrows up
his strength the Souldier of his valour the Schollar of his learning the Germane gloryes that hee can drinke Wine the Usurer sacrifices to the god of gold the Prodigall to his pleasure and the Lover to his Lady and of all the rest the last is the most deluded making his life laborious while hee is tyred with such unacquainted passions Her frownes or smiles give him an earnest of life or death hee spends his yeares in disquietnesse his moneths in frowardnesse the day in fancies the night in dreames hee tyres his passion corrupts his invention deludes his affection disturbes his rest cracks his braine wearies his bed and breaken his sleepe hee makes earth his heaven pleasure his paradise beauty his felicity and prosperity his glory Poore soule hee knows not that bravery is a vanity that beauty is a vision and love a delusion that as Syrens can inchant so Ladies can allure that extremity attends prodigallity and the greatest temptations the strongest affections that the comliest blossome is the soonest blasted and the sweetest Rose the quickliest withered That poyson lyeth by the sweetest herbe and death is mingled in the fairest bait The deluded Lover stands in his owne light he puts out his owne eyes hee stoppes his owne eares hee is cloathed in darkenesse hee wanders in blindnesse lives in lasciviousnes and dyes in forgetfullnesse while these poore rarities fanne him with silken wings of mildest ayre breathed from a whispering winde Looke back fond Lover thou sure hast dreamed all past is but delusion thy sordid affections deserve not the name of love 't is but a morrall blaze a piece of humane glory a glaunce of beauties bravery a sparke of Cupids candle a flame of Vuicans forge a flash of Natures fire hot in a minute and cold in a moment But Oh Divine Love how much art thou abused How strongly neglected who art chiefely to bee beloved Thou indeed art a bed of Roses a mountaine of Spices a Garden of sweetnesse a Type of blessednesse a Messenger of fullnesse a Mirrour of faithfullnesse with thee there is no respect of persons nor no regard of places thou mindest not vanity nor art deceived by folly Thou strivest not for honour thou lookest not after gaine thou thirstest not for revenge but hopest all things believeth all things indureth all things Thou fillest the soule with vertue with vallour humility fidelity love peace joy patience and perseverance thou art hee that preserveth earth that guideth the Heavens and lest the Universe should returne to its first Chaos thou rulest the unruly Elements thou turnest the spheres and commandest the wandring Planets in their several Orbes And when thou smilest upon the soule thou makest earth resemble heaven deformity become purity and dust immortallity how faire and how lovely art thou oh Love for delights ARe they Ministers of Christ I speake as a fooole I am more in labours more abundant in stripes above measure in prisons more frequent in deaths oft Of the Iewes five times received I forty stripes save one Thrice was I beaten with rods once was I stoned thrice I suffered shipwracke a night and a day I have beene in the deepe In journeying often in perils of waters in perils of robbers in perils by mine owne countreymen in perils by the heathen in perils in the city in perils in the wildernesse in perils in the sea in perils amongst false brethren in wearinesse and painefulnesse in watchings often in hunger and thirst infasting often in cold and nakednesse 2 Corinthians chap. 11. vers 24.25.26.27 The SOULE ANd does the pallas of immortall glory Stand by deaths darkned throne Is this story True that many a fiery dart Is shot to wound the tyred travellers heart And yet before he comes into the armes Of love must conquer death and hells alarms Induring many a storme oh where is he That shall arrive at immort allitie CHRIST What 's he that questions heaven or his power And tyes eternity to a short lived houre By words that darken knowledge Canst thou tell His thoughts of love say wortall doest thou well Is mine arme shortned or do'st thou feare Mine eare is heavy that it cannot heare Or is my truth decayed Doe I require Fond man that thou alone shouldst travell through the fire Except I go before whose power can tame The scorching furnace and the fiery flame Have not I power to save that lockt up hell And conquered death Say mortall dost than well Is man more righteous then his maker why Do'st thou then mourne dry up thy watry eye And read thy way to heaven in this story Go on I 'le crowne thee with a crowne of glory SOULE But ah I am intangled in this vale of teares While I sit downe in sorrow numerous fearet Beset me round such rubs lye in my way I looke for deaths embassage every day In which my heart is faint my fears are full My faith is feeble and my senses dull And Sathan triumphs for no power at all Is in fond man since his rebellious fall How hard a taske how short a time have wee And who can wander to eternitio It is enough oh Lord thou knowst that I Am vanity let me lie down and dye CHRIST What meane these murm'rings that doe pierce mine cares Why faithlesse sonle art thou so full of feares Heaven is not gain'd at every idle breath Love attends labour life is gain'd by death This is a debt eternity will not passe Thy glory earth is like the withering grasse Thy soule is too impure till thou dost pay That debt soul how will mine eys indure this day My soule that once was glorious sin hath stain'd My hands are fetter'd and my feet are chain'd How black hath horror made my darkned face Can Heaven love me now can he embrace Me in his Royall armes can he endure A soule that 's so deform'd that 's so impure It is enough O Lord thou knowst that I Am vanity let me lie downe and dye Alas the least temptation throwes me downe CHRIST Yet soule press forward thou shalt have a Crowne Of endlesse Royalty set on thy head In a victorious Orb. Soule 'T is true the dead That dye in thee are happy they are blest Indeed they slumber in eternall rest But I that have not strength enough to strive Through my disasters how shall I arrive At my desired haven when I read 'T is such a difficult way Christ why I will lead Thee through the sea of sorrow till the Cup Of wrath is passed ore I 'le beare thee up In ever lasting armes do but endeavour To conquer death and thou shalt live for ever As pleasure so is torment transitory Strive and I 'le crown thee with a crown of glory The third SOLILOQUIE YOu trayterous thoughts assault my sence no more oh mine eyes whither doe you wander to what great steppe of pleasure to what great pitch of honour to what illustrate sphere to what coelestiall orbe are you hurried in
well And yonder sits the Larke and turtle dove Come let 's goe walke and we will paralell Love with eternall glory in you Grove Wee 'le take the subtle Fox nor will we spare To hunt the light foot Deere or timerous Hare Come then my love my dove arise my fairest faire V. Rise Phoeb ' and come away thy blinded eye Is lul'd to ruine in dislumbring dreame Why art thou rockt in such a lullaby And drown'd in various wanton streames Come let us travell to eternity And languish in the purest sweet extreames Wherefore my deare so greedy dost thou crowd To danger why to darknesse dost thou shrowd And leave thy love alone wrapt in a sable Cloud VI. Rise Phoeb ' and come away thy short Reposes Are flattring slumbers leave thy slippry hold Of sordid earth come on a bed of Roses I le knit thy haire in knots of fringed gold Wee 'le pusse the flying day in entercloses Of dearest love with glory uncontroul'd I 'le teach thee how to surfet in the fire Of loves immortall flames while some desire To spēa their time in prais thou rather shalt admire VII Rise Phoeb ' and come away we 'le make great Jove To stop his fiery horses swift carere Whose nostrills vomit flames we 'le mount above And hold the Reines of Titans hemisphare sgrove And guide his Chariot wheeles through pleasures And view the hallowea walks Come come my dear Le ts wander to Elizium whose bright ray Out-shines great Phoebus in his new born day Or the most fairest noon rise Phoeb ' and come away The fourth SOLILOQUIE AH Lord thou commandest us to seeke thy face that we may shun death and yet thou sayest none can see thy face and live Ah! let me live that I may know thee or die that I may see thee It is the happinesse of those glorious Angels that they continually behold thee and therefore they incompasse thine Altar with sweet Odours unspeakeable Rhaptures and high Hallelujah's but we poore mortalls prest down with sinne with guilt with flesh with feare cannot worthily praise thee Ah me why doe I seeke thee If thou beest no where absent why doe I not finde thee if thou beest every where present sure to the eye of darknesse thou wrappest thy selfe in thicke darkenes and thou art discovered to the eye that is enlightned thou art seene in thy power to sinners in thy terrour to Sathan in thy Sonne to thy Saints thou art seene in thy judgement to them that are against thee in thy Justice to them that flye from thee in thy Sacraments to them that seeke thee in thy Lawes to them that love thee and in thy Love to them that know thee Whence proceedeth this thy condiscention and thine infinite humiliation that thou did'st leave thy Throne in Heaven to live in the forme of a servant on earth Why didst thou change thy Crowne of Royalty for a Crowne of Indignity Why should aninfinite Creatour love a finite Creature and Heaven stoope to Hell Alas oh Lord Jesus heere was no Royall Throne for thy Majesty no Glorious Temple to entertaine thee heere was no winged Cherubins to beare thee no Armies of Angells to stand before thee no sweete faced object to delight thine eyes no musicall Raptures to salute thine eares no costly odours to annoynt thy feete nor spangled Canopy to spread over thy head but sinne and shame guilt and feare hell and horrour blacknesse and darkenesse extremity poverty impurity deformity and canst thou love so poore a thing as man oh thou that inhabitest in Heaven in light inaccessible in glory incomprehensible who canst with a frowne overturne thine enemies fame and by their ruine purchase thy selfe glory and if the World should totally revolt from thee and set her selfe against thee Couldst thou not command a suddaine clap of thunder to spurne her from her Poles shake her from her Center crack her Axeltrees and breake her Chariot wheeles Couldst thou not let loose the Elements that the Heavens should bee hid in blacknesse and the Sunne should bee cloathed in darkenesse that the Waters should drowne the earth and the fire should devoure the aire or with an angry breath couldst thou not puffe them all away that earth and ayre and water and fire should vanish and the world should be no more and in the roome thereof create in a moment to perfect thy praises ten thousand severall Orbes Why then oh man art thou so much deluded Why is Heaven and his sweet invitations so much disregarded sure there bee foure dayes in which thou wilt call thy selfe foole for neglecting so great salvation And they be these The day of publick calamity The day of private extreamity The day of death The day of doome First in the day of publick calamity if the world should bee governed in blacknesse and darkeneste If natures fabrick should bee smitten if the powers of the world should bee shaken if the waters should bee loosed if the fire should bee kindled if the ayre should bee infected if the earth should bee poysoned if the sword should begin to range againe and thou shouldst see thousands of mangled bodies about the streets if the trumpets should sound the alarum of war againe and the drums beat dolefull funeralls for the souldiers if whisling bullets and fiery granadoes should fall like haile on the earth and roare like the thunderclaps in heaven if every mans sword should bee set against his fellow if the earth should bee paved with dead mens bones and the channels run downe with blood if this flourishing Kingdome should bee made a burnt offering her people lye beeding like a new slain sacrifice where then couldst thou finde a chamber to hide thee in but in thy beloveds armes and under the shaddow of his mighty wings when the Lord comes to make inquisition for blood and his fury shall breake out in fiery flames to lick up the sinners of the world then will Jesus Christ bee as a shadowed grove in a thundering storme as a cooling rock in a scorching day and a fountaine of water in a weary land when the worldling shall loose his anchor of hope and suffer shipwrack thou shalt safely bee set a shoare If the famine should run after the sword the stoutest heart should grow faint and the fairest face should begin to wax pale because of pining hunger If the pestilence should follow famine if terrour should walke in darkenesse and the arrowes of the Almighty fly at noone day if a thousand should fall on thy right hand and ten thousand on thy left hand and thou beginnest to feare because of the evill that is come upon the world who then can protect thee that judgements may not touch thee but Jesus Christ Tell mee then hath hee not cause to bee beloved would hee not bee worthy to bee desired Secondly in the day of private extremity when thine eyes shall bee opened and thy heart shall bee awaked when thy minde shall bee troubled
31. vers 13 14 15 16 17. Come thou prophane Sabbath breaker thou findest fault of the shortnesse of thy time I tell thee ere long thy time shall be cut away the candle thou now dost waste in pleasure thou wilt hereafter begge to spend in prayer what thou wretch if thy God had required six dayes in the weeke to sanctifie his name and celebrate his praise how wouldest thou have done that if thou canst not give him one in seven Goe sordid earth imbalme thy self in tears thou knowest not what felicity the godly take in this dayes progresse while they travell through the coelestiall Groves and while they wander through the faire Elizium walkes aspiring beyond the reach of this unworthy earth to change their hourely entercourse of love with Heaven whose service is perfect freedome redemption from slavery and a path way to glory every dayes progresse sends thee nearer to eternity and thou makest but a few Sabbath dayes journey towards Heaven why tell me whither doest thou wander Is it because there is no God in Israel that thou servest the god of Ekron or because thou hast dined on earth wilt thou now goe sup in hell away blind man thou runnest to thy ruine retire a while to thy forgotten selfe and reckon how fast thy winged houres flie away Ah Lord thy Sabbaths in former ages have been celebrated to thy praise when thy people spake often one to another to thy glory when the morning starres sang together and all the sonnes of God shouted for joy thy Saints in former ages upon thy holy day have met to offer up their perfumed oblations and dayly sacrifices to thee who dwellest between the Cherubins but now the beauty of Israell is gone from the high places Oh how are the mighty falne tell mee thou wretch that sayest when will the Sabbath be over that we may sell our Corne and Wine and Oyle that we may put on our gallant apparrell and heape up bags of gold what gaine is in riches what beauty in bravery what profit in pleasure what glory in honour thy riches are but poverty thy beauty deformity thy pleasure a penalty thine honour slavery therefore foole thy selfe no more by omitting thy duty and robbing heaven of his glory lest thou beest strucke with leaprosie like Miriam lest thou beest swallowed up like Corah Dathan and Abiram lest thou art consumed with fire like the sonnes of Aron lest thou hast a shower of stones like Akan or art shot with an arrow from heaven like Julian lest thou beest lopt from the Vine and cut from the earth and shut out of Heaven and flung into Hell lest thy possession be made a desolation and thy memory perish from the earth for want of a memory Sixthly the swearer is a barren Branch Ye shall not sweare by my Name falsly neither shalt thou prophane the name of thy God I am the Lord. Levit. 19. vers 12. Thou prophane Wretch that with thy breath infectest the aire and with thy body burdenest the earth and with thy heart dost blaspheme heaven what became of the prophane Rabshekah or the blasphemous Senacherib that with their tongues sounded such thunderclaps in fearefull Israells ears but when their lips upbraided the God of Heaven how soon did he bow their proud imperious necks and layd their glory groveling in the ground thou black mouth'd swearer that with a flash of Oathes doest exalt thy selfe to Heaven I tell thee ere long thou shalt be spurned downe to Hell thy life seemes yet a merry Comedy but thou knowest not how soone thou shalt speake the last sceane which being done thou shalt exit to the attiring roome of earth and undresse thee in the silent grave thou foule mouth'd swearer thou faine wouldst be accounted a Christian yet livest more deboyster then the Heathen Come if thou art a Christian trye thy Copy by thy Saviours President and see how thou obeyest his command But I say unto you sweare not at all neither by Heaven for it is Gods throne nor by earth for it is his footstoole nether by Hierusalem for it is she City of the great King Neither shalt thou sweare by thy head because thou canst not make one haire white or blacke But let your communication be Yea yea Nay nay for whatsoever is more then these commeth of evill Matthew 5. vers 34 35 36 37. Poore man thou art so far from dishonouring thy God by this that by thy Ruine he will purchase himselfe glory as the Traveller that spits against the winde hath it blowne in his face so thou that with thy breath blasphemest heaven blowest but the fire of Hell which shall torment thee to eternity thou that doest waste thy time in trifles and thy dayes in a dreame thou art at the best but a piece of perjury and a flash of vanity that walkest by the light of thine owne fire and the sparkes thou hast kindled This is the portion thou shalt have from the hand of Heaven thou shalt lie downe in sorrow Seventhly the covetous man is a barren Branch and shall be cut from the Vine What 's hee that so prophanes all purity and scornes the power that others doe adore that curseth his Tapour for burning so fast his provision for spending too soone his houres for flying too swift and his purse for filling too slow Thou groveling worldling that Viper-like doest teare thy Mothers wombe and off rest sacrifice to the god of gold that art as pollitick as Achitophell as proud as painted Jezebell as churlish as Naball as swift as Asahell hadst thou the pollicy of Vlysses the strength of Hercules the beauty of Adonis the wealth of great Nilus or the gold of rich Tagus thou art but a house of clay and thy foundation is in the Dust Neverthelesse man being in honour abideth not he is like the beasts that perish Psalme 49. verse 12. The time is comming when delicates shall not be delightfull life shall not be desirable pleasure shall be painefull Riches unprofitable death unavoydable and eternity most terrible when thou shalt finde evidences enough for earth but no assurance for Heaven then it may be thou wouldst give ten thousand pounds for a share in Jesus Christ but Jesus Christ makes no such bargaine Dives had not been in Hell if his money would have purchast heaven but then thy Riches shall take to themselves wings and flye away thou knowest not how soone thou mayest come to thy journeyes end when thou shalt bee deposed from thy glory like Nebuchadnezar Dan. 4 30. or slaine in the midst of thy gold and mirth like drunken Belshazzer or lye in the cold like poore Lazarus or bee kickt into Hell like rich Dives go view the Monuments of thy Fathers where lyes the Crowne of Shyhon King of the Amorices and Ogge the King of Bashan Where bee the Perizites the Jebusites or the Children of the East or Zeba or Zelmunna Where is the Tower of Babylon the sometimes glorious Caanan the
Come guide my winged houres and hurle me from my throne Man Why was I borne or being borne Oh why Did I not weep one houre and die Ah me What torments doe attend us while we see The Sun how short a time have we Phoebus although thy Chariot makes away So fast and will admit of no delay Yet lend more hours to the year or minutes to the day Death Drive on dull Phoebus drive away my bow Is bent and thou dost flye too slow Drive on againe or by my unknowne power I le blast the glory of this flower Time Stay death thou caust not strike the blow til I Shall say amen Death Yes Phoebus if thou hie Thee not away this Lamp shall soone drop downe and die Time Black monarch of the shades curb in thy heeles Awhile attend my Chariot wheeles Death I cannot for thy beames are too too high The shades adorne my blacke browd eye I le cut this flower away and then retire To the dark groves Time wherefore dost thou desire To eclipse so bright a star and quench so fair a fire Death Thy glasse exceeds her hower it ha's too long To run thou dost me too much wrong I le strike the blow Time Cut not this flowre away For as I am the god of day And sonne to high borne Jove who taught me how To guide my wandring Orb I 'le make thee bow Thy Pride when next thou furrowest up our brow Time Poore man thy time is short indeed alas There 's but a little in thy Glasse But yet thou shalt not dye awhit before 'T is out nor live a minute more My fiery horse are hot and wondrous proud I can scarce rule the Reines but must go shrowd My head and leave thee wrapt within a sable cloud The sixth SOLILOQUIE COme huffling gallaÌ„ts of the times draw near lay downe your sallow Garlands by you and the thing you call honour and let your eyes behold our subject let it pull downe your imperious necks and strike your top sailes let it give to vertue constancy to prophanesse penitency to the proud man humility But gallants you are not sad me thinks you looke too well as if you should live eternally on earth or had an everlasting inheritance in Heaven as if you could coÌ„mand the horses of Time or stop the golden Chariot of the day what comlinesse is in your spots of complexion what righteousnesse in your choicesâ— Recreation what goodnesse is in the great mans gallantry what beauty in the proud mans bravery what glory in the Covetous mans gold oâ— what great ratity in the spend thrifts prodigality how wavering are your words how deluding are your deeds how disloyall is your love how inconstant is your care how weake are your desires to Heaven how strong doe you doat upon the earth how poore is your evidence of immortality yet how richly doe you flourish in the garbe of worlds glory And yet poore man what art thou but a walking shaddow a piece of moviâ—g earth a gliding flash a blasted flower an inch of mortality that art travelling to eternity whose wisedome is but folly whose strength is inability whose grace is impurity whose comlinesse deformity whose substance is sinne whose glory is thy shame take man in his best time and he is but a piece of vanity looke on him in a full Sea of plenty or an ebbing tide of poverty in the bloome of age or the blossome of youth and this piece of earth is but a debter to Heaven and this handfull of dust hath but a handfull of daies in which he is as restlesse as the Sunne as various as the Moone as wavering as the windes as unconstant as the Cloudes as dissembling as the Seas as foule as earth as flashy as the fire and as fickle as the Aire and having acted his part upon this transitory stage death strikes the Epilogue and the play is done and notwithstanding all his dignity he must lye downe and dye For all flesh is grasse and the glory of man but as the flowre of grasse Ladies for in your Ivory hands my Booke may sometimes be here 's a glasse for you not to represent your beauty but to discover your frailty not to shew you how to deck your heads but to tell you how to adorne your hearts not to learne ye how in curiosity to set your imbroydred haires but in true penitency how to drown your wanton eyes What mean's your cloathes perfumed with so many savours your Apothecaries shop of sundry salves your new sangled braveries you boxes of beauties your wavering affections your wanton Recreations look in your glasse see if pride be not inthroned on your majestick browes and if your bravery be set off with any thing else but vanity t is only vanity and nothing else but vanity which dances upon your plumes as your feathers fanne the aire What will you doe when death shall summon you to eternity when sicknesse with her ashy hand shall sweep the colour from your cheeks when your stript off bravery shall discover your deformity and you shall resemble earth when you shall lay downe your ornaments of beauty by you when the dismall Ew and the flattring Ivy shall grow about your graves and Time shall pusse away the remembrance of your glory Ladies did I but know the scope of your desire as your singing Master knowes your skill in an aire I could teach your eyes to weepe faster then hee your fingers to play and fit you as well with a sight as the Musition with a Song but being a stranger to your Sex I forbeare onely thus much bee as vertuous as faire that you may bee the glory of our dayes and that your names may flourish in after Ages Instead of love and loves delusion go spend some houres in divine contemplation instead of the Poetry of Ovid read the Piety of David instead of the falsenesse of beautious Absolon follow the faithfullnesse of blessed Abraham instead of the love of Philasten read the life of Francis Spira behold the ruines of Edonezedick King of Jerusalem of Korah Dathan and Ahiram of Nadab and Abihu the sonnes of Aaron of Hoham King of Hebron of acursed Miriam and Apostate Julian these had all the glory of nature and were famous in the World yet were they lost in a confused Chaos shunne therefore their pride that yee bee not ruined with their plague let your love bee without disloyalty your faithfullnesse without formallity your fashions without foolery and your beauty without bravery so shall your names flourish by the Poets pen and live till time shall bee no more so shall yee bee adored for your goodnesse more then honoured for your greatnesse and famed for your grace more then feared for your glory so shall your inward excellency exceede your outward bravery and your perfumed rarities smell sweeter then your Conserves of Roses Come hither deluded Lover that findest no felicity but in thy Mistresse company and hast placed thy
joyes in thy faire Mistrefle eyes that like foolish Paris bowest to the Shrine of Venus whose happynesse and life lyes in thy Ladyes love remember the Peacock hath faire Feathers but foule feete the Bee hath Honey by her toyle but a sting in her tayle the finest Rose may have pricks at the stalke and the fairest Apple may bee rotten at the Core Nay though thy Lady may bee civill worthy and vertuous yet time may make her lascivious wanton and various the fairest Blossome may bee the soonest blasted and the sweetest Flower the quickliest withered the blustring Windes may swell the mightiest waves and a glorious Morne may turne a gloomy day The Philosophers say the life of man is nothing but opinion Alas thou doest but dreame fond Lover heere are no hallowed Groves no faire Elizium walkes no Palaces of pleasure no high borne Imps of honour no heads archt in Royalty no beauties deckt in glory But wanton Cupids morall blaze which is as a shining flash or a seeming fire hot in a minute and cold in a moment which will blast thee if thou behold it and burne thee if thou come too neare 〈…〉 will come when thou shall dread that which thou dost now adore and loath the thing thou now dost love e're long the stoutest heart shall bee faint and the fairest face begin to waxe pale then pleasantnesse shall turne peevishnesse and kindnesse to coldnesse plenty shall bee poverty and beauty deformity then shalt thou behold the rottennesse of youth when thou commest to the ripenesse of age and see the uncertainty of life when thou receivest the summons of death For all flesh is grasse and the glory of man but as the flower of grasse And thou fond muckworme that servest the gods of gold what needest thou labour for an Inheritance in earth Thou hast too surely earth already go labour for an Inheritance foole that will not faile thee lest either thy Riches flye from thee or thy Money perish with thee lest the rot take thy heart as the rust may eate thy gold lest thy possession bee made a desolation and instead of having a Treasure in Heaven thou purchase with thy Coyne an eternall Tombe in Hell And likewise thou yong man thy morning is but now risen and it promises to bee a Sunne-shine day and thou doest not dreame that all flesh is grasse and the glory of man but as the flower of grasse yet flatter not thy selfe too fairely though thou were not strangled in thy Nativity yet thou mayest bee cut off in thy maturity though thou wert not blowne away in the fondnesse of thy youth yet thou mayest bee cut off in the fullnesse of thine age therefore let this rectifie thy reason and purge thy pollution let it raise thy love and humble thy heart thou knowest thou shalt dye but thou canst not tell when thou art sure thou shalt fall but thou doest not know where Well walke so on earth that death may conduct thee into Heaven expect Death every where but feare it no where for when thy present tense shall bee made a preterimperfect tense as thou hast lived holily so shalt thou dye happily and raigne in immortall blessednesse in the Pallace of high glory Tell mee thou old man I thinke thou art acquainted well with our subject that all flesh is grasse and the glory of man but as the flower of grasse what pleasure hadst thou in those things whereof thou art now ashamed With much paine thou hast past thy pilgrimage and worne thy wearied dayes thy life has beene but a longer prologue to an eternall Tragedy Go look on the Monuments of the old World old man and see how those mighty sonnes of Annak sleepe in earth How death has given them their quâ—â—cus est In the house of darkenesse there is no striving for dignities nor purchasing of places An Army of Souldiers that are there cannot march in Battle Ray not in their Warlick Triumphs thunder about their Tombes The greatest Merchant when hee takes that house hee loses all the richest Usurer that was worth thousands heere if you go to him there hee has not a penny in his pocket but is as poore as hee was sometimes proud The wisest Lawyer and the eloquentest Oratour when they come there give over their practise and will plead no more the Lord is there but a Companion for his Lacky and the Judge on the Bench sleepes safe with the Prisoner at the Barre How dolefull mee thinkes is the alarum of yonder passing Bell ushering Deaths Language in every eare If it goes for an unprepared sinner the sound thereof strikes terrour the night grows horrible and every object showes his blacke actions Oh the Conscience of the lost sinner now how is hee hurryed Now for an houre of life but it will not bee Let the sinner see in all his Inventory what will hee prize or what can give one houre of ease None but Jesus Christ Alas but hee hath no share in him Unhappy soule how hast thou spent thy time and worne out thy pretious dayes Was it in love thou hast spent thy life Oh hadst thou beene acquainted with Heaven how mightest thou have beene swallowed in the Sea of love Tell mee who made the earth so full of variety the Sunne so glorious the Moone so beautious Who made the glittering Starres that aspire the Olympick Hill that the lower Orbes might bee relieved by the spangled spheres when the Sunne has done the day Say sinner must not hee that gives beauty to deformity bee himselfe much more lovely Or what was it profit thou hast laboured for what greater profit then to be a Prince or what higher happinesse then holinesse what greater riches then righteousnesse or what higher gaine then to weare an immortall Crowne Or was it pleasure thou hast sought after I thinke the pleasure of the world is paine remember how often thou hast called thy selfe Foole when thou hast been retired alone when thy fancy hath been wearied in folly and thy Recreation hath gone beyond thy Reason deluded soule what pleasure is like that which dwells in Paradice in those blest Groves which cannot bee described by the pen of the Writer nor exprest by the tongue of an Orator whose glory had any but the Art to paint forth in the language of love t would leave the writer in a Maze or strike the Reader dead But now poore soule in seeking the things that are but momentany thou hast lost thy selfe eternally who now can intercede before the immortall throne that the sinner may be saved none but Jesus Christ and alas the soule is not acquainted with him unhappy soule thou art now struck silent goe drowne thy closed eyes in Teares lye downe in dust forgotten earth for thou shalt rise no more till the Axeltrees of the world shall begin to flame and time shall breake his Charriot wheeles till the Heavens shall passe away with a great noyse and the world shal swelter in flames
his brow and calls the dancing billowes up aloft does weep to heare the ruined Mariner complaine Hence let the tongues of prophane Papists be silent and sing no more their idle Layes lest while they trust to the memory of their Saints they lose the merit of their Saviour and seeking Saint Peters Key to open the gate they stand with the foolish Virgins knocking at the doore It is not penning many bookes it is not praying with many beades it is not a new slaine Sacrifice nor the bloud of Bulls nor the fat of Rams nor a thousand Rivers of Oyle nor the Hypocrites humility nor the worldlings beauty deckt in glory that can save from the day of wrath Reader I le tell you why because they are nothing all the Consonants in the Alphabet can spell nothing without a Vowell ten thousand Cyphers stand for nothing without a Figure all the Nations of the earth are but as the drop of the Bucket and the small dust of the Ballance not only vanity but lighter then vanitie till God unite the sinner to his Son and makes him something he is nothing but then God the Father calls him something and by calling him so he makes him so But before the power of the Prince the pen of the Poet the valour of the Souldier the skill of an Orator is nothing they themselves are nothing the best of them are but Cyphers and though one Cypher is bigger then another yet they all stand for nothing Much study indeed is a wearinesse to the flesh but to keep thy Commands that is impossible for flesh and spirit Ah Lord the glory of nature may worke the one but the gifts of Grace must doe the other the power of earth may practice the first but the Prince of heaven must performe the last Keepe thy Commands There is not a sentence so hard among all the learned Synods of the world it strikes dead at once all the faculties of the soule the poore creature here does stand amazed Alas it is as hard for the poore soule to doe this as for the earth to ascend to the stars and wander with the Spheres and therefore like St. John the soule weepes sore when he sees there is none found worthy in the world But soule retire thy selfe from teares advance thy slumbring eyes though thou art not worthy that dwellest on earth yet there is a Lambe found worthy that does inherit Heaven nay he is not onely worthy but willing hee every day approacheth the Altars and mingles his blood with thy sacrifices and sweetens thy prayers with his perfumes when they ascend before the immortall Throne Sinner thou hast a Saviour who is able to doe the worke if thou canst but finde a will Oh Love how transcendent are thy Lawes I faine would pry into thy glorious precepts yet dare not lest I am too soone lost and drowne my selfe in pleasure and never heard of ravishings least a glance of immortality do strike me blinde and I surfet with excesse of joy and die With showers of tears O drowne my wanton eyes thou sayst I am nothing Ah Lord and now I see I am nothing let my down-cast eyes present a silent sorrow and let my heart resemble the dusky evening aire when the Sunne has done the day or as poore Luna in her eclipsed hower descends her silver throne and having lost bright Sol resignes her glory to the spangled traine of wandring stars mourning for the absence of his Chariot wheeles And since I am nothing humble this heart that would too soone be high and like the wavering Plumes swell with every breath of praise It is not reading the Bible will save me from Hell nor writing a Booke will send me to Heaven as some gifts of Grace cannot secure me so all the gifts of nature will not have power to save me I may die for all the first and be damned notwithstanding the last Then if love be better then labour and utility goes before ingenuity if the lowest faith be better then the highest fancy and a dram of grace be heavier then a tun of gold what need I goe round about to Heaven when there is a nearer way no I have done this is the last of my labours now I will trouble the world no more with a Poem from my Pen the way to Heaven is by low contrition not high speculation by private prayers not by publique praises and by the truth of fear not by the trump of fame Feet finde me out the way I have none to direct me now but the Counsell of a troubled heart yet I will try Shine faire some glittering star you that enlighten your darkned journey with your borrowed glory and in your blessed Orbes continually behold the day say gentle guides how lies my journey to the immortall hill lead me and I will follow you And O God hide all my faults in thy love and shew me how to creepe through the straite gate upon my tender joints and bended knees in this my youthfull age shew me my inability that I may admire thy Majesty and though by others I should be thought something yet to my selfe let me appeare nothing that thou mayest be all in all FINIS