are Of sumptuous beautie and of glorious show Let him disrobe and put on sackcloth too The Oxe ordain'd for yoke the Asse for load The Horse as well for race as for the road The burthen-bearing Cammell strong and great The fruitfull Kine and eu'ry kind of Neate Let all put sackcloth on and spare no voyce But crie amaine to heau'n with mightie noyse Let all men turne the Byas of their wayes And change their fiercer hands to force of praise For who can tell if God whose angrie face Hath long bin wayning from vs will embrace This slender pittance of our best endeuour Who knowes if God will his intent perseuer Or who can tell if He whose tender loue And mercy ' extends his Iudgements farre aboue Will change his high Decree and turne his sentence Vpon a timely and vnfain'd Repentance And who can tell if God will change the lot That we and ours may liue and perish not So God perceiu'd their works and saw their wayes Approu'd the faith that in their works did blaze Approu'd their works approu'd their works the rather Because their faith and works went both together He saw their faith because their faith abounded He saw their works because on faith they grounded H' approu'd their faith because their faith was true H' approu'd their works because on faith they grew He saw their faith and works and so relented H◠approu'd their faith and works and so repented Repented of the plagues they apprehended Repented of the Euill that he intended So God the vengeance of his hand with-drew He tooke no forfeiture although 't were due The Euill that once he meant he now forgot Cancell'd the forfeit bond and did it not Meditatio decima ¶ LO into what an ebbe of low estate The Soule that seekes to be regenerate Must first decline Before the Ball rebound It must be throwne with force against the ground The Seed cannot encrease in fruitfull eares Nor can she reare the goodly stalke she beares Vnlesse bestrow'd vpon a mould of earth And made more glorious by a second birth So fares with Man Before he can bring forth The braue exploits of truly noble Worth Or hope the granting of his sinnes remission He must be humbl'd first in sad contrition The plant through want of skill or by neglect If it be planted from the Sunnes reflect Or lack the dew of seasonable showres Decayes and beareth neither Fruit or Flowres So wretched Man if his repentance hath No quickning Sunne-shine of a liuely Faith Or not bedew'd with show'rs of timely teares Or works of mercy wherein Faith appeares His pray'rs and deeds and all his forged grones Are like the howles of Dogs and works of Drones The skilfull Surgeon first by letting blood Weakens his Patient ere he does him good Before the Soule can a true comfort finde The Body must be prostrate and the Minde Truly repentiue and contrite within And loath the fawning of a bosome Sin But Lord Can MAN deserue Or can his Best Doe Iustice equall right which he transgrest When Dust and Ashes mortally offends Can Dust and Ashes make Eternall mends Is Heau'n vniust Must not the Recompence Be full Equiualent to the Offence What mends by mortall Man can then be giu'n To the offended Maiestie of heau'n O Mercie Mercie on thee my Soule relyes On thee we build our Faith we bend our eyes Thou fill'st my empty straine thou fil'st my tongue Thou art the subiect of my Swan-like song Like pinion'd pris'ners at the dying Tree Our lingring hopes attend and wayte on thee Arraign'd at Iustice barre preuent our doome To thee with ioyfull hearts we cheerely come Thou art our Clergie Thou that dearest Booke Wherein our fainting eyes desire to looke In thee we trust to reade what will release vs In bloudy Caracters that name of IESVS ¶ What shall we then returne to God of Heau'n Where nothing is Lord nothing can be giu'n Our soules our bodies strength and all our pow'rs Alas were all too little were they ours Or shall we burne vntill our life expires An endlesse Sacrifice in Holy fires ¶ My Sacrifice shall be my HEART entire My Christ the Altar and my Zeale the Fire THE ARGVMENT The Prophet discontented prayes To God that he would end his dayes God blames his wrath so vnreprest Reproues his vnaduis'd Request Sect. 11. BVt this displeasing was in Iona's eyes His heart grew hot his blood began to rise His eyes did sparkle and his teeth struck fire His veines did boyle his heart was full of yre At last brake foorth into a strange request These words he pray'd and mumbl'd out the rest Was not O was not this my thought O Lord Before I fled Nay was not this my Word The very Word that these my lips had shaped When this mis-hap mought well haue bin escaped Was there O was there not a iust suspect My preaching would procuer this effect For loe I knew of old they tender loue I knew the pow'r thou gau'st my Tongue would moue Their Adamantine hearts I knew 't would thaw Their frozen spirits and breed relenting awe I knew moreo're vpon their true repentance That thou determin'dst to reuerse thy sentence For lo I knew thou wert a Gracious God Of long forbearance slow to vse the Rod I knew the power of thy Mercies bent The strength of all thy other works out-went I knew thy tender kindnes and how loth Thou wert to punish and how slow to wrath Turning thy Iudgements and thy plagues preuenting Thy mind reuersing and of Eu'll repenting Therefore O therefore through this perswasion I fled to Tarsish there to make euasion To saue thy credit Lord to saue mine owne For when this blast of zeale is ouer-blowne And sackloth left and they left off to mourne When they like dogs shall to their vomit turne They 'l vilipend thy sacred Word and scoffe it Saying Was that a God or this a Prophet They 'l scorne thy Iudgements thy threats despise And call thy Prophets Messengers of lyes Now therefore Lord bow downe attentiue eare For lo my burthen's more then I can beare Make speed O Lord and banish all delayes T' extinguish now the tapour of my dayes Let not the minutes of my time extend But let my wretched howers find an end Let not my fainting sprite thus long aby In her fraile mansion of mortality The thrid's but weake my life depends vpon O cut that thrid and let my life be done My brest stands faire O strike and strike againe For nought but dying can asswage my paine For liefer 'tis to dye then liue in shame For better 't is to leaue and yeeld the game Then toyle for what at length must needs be lost O kill me for my heart is sore imbost This latter boone vnto thy seruant giue For better 't is for me to dye then liue So wretched Ionah But Iehoua thus What boot's it so to storme out-ragious Does it become
my seruants heart to swell Can anger helpe thee Ionah Doest thou well Meditatio vndecima ¶ HOw poore a thing is man How vain 's his mind How strange base And wau'ring like the wind How vncouth are his wayes How full of danger How to himselfe is he himselfe a stranger His heart 's corrupt and all his thoughts are vaine His actions sinfull and his words prophane His will 's deprau'd his senses all beguil'd His reason 's darke His members all defil'd His hastie feet are swift and prone to ill His guilty hands are euer bent to kill His tongue 's a spunge of venome or of worse Her practice is to sweare her skill to curse His eyes are fierballs of lustfull fire And outward spyes to inward foule desire His body is a well erected station But full of filth and foule corrupted passion Fond loue and raging lust and foolish feares Excessiue ioy and griefe o'rwhelm'd with teares Immoderate and couetous Desier And sinfull anger red and hot as fier These daily clog the soule that 's fast in prison From whose encrease this lucklesse brood is risen Respectlesse Pride and lustfull Idlenes Foule ribbauld talke and lothsome Drunkennes Fruitlesse Despayre and needlesse Curiositie Odious Ingratitude Double Hypocrisie Base Flattery and haughty-ey'd Ambition Heart-gnawing Hatred and squint-ey'd Suspition Self-eating Enuie Enuious Detraction Hopelesse Distrust and too-too sad Deiection Reuengefull Malice Hellish Blasphemie Idolatry and light Inconstancie Daring Presumption wry-mouth'd Derision Fearefull Apostacie vaine Superstition ¶ What heedfull watch And what contin'all ward How great respect and howerly regard Stands man in hand to haue when such a brood Of furious hell-hounds seeke to suck his blood Day night and hower they rebell and wrastle And neuer cease till they subdue the Castle ¶ How sleight a thing is man How fraile and brittle How seeming great is he How truly little Within the bosome of his holiest works Some hidden Embers of old Adam lurks Which oftentimes in men of righteous wayes Burst out in flame and for a season blaze ¶ Lord teach our hearts giue our soules directions Subdue our Passions Curb our stout Affections Nip thou the bud before the Bloome begins Lord keep all good men from presumptuous sins THE ARGVMENT A Booth for shelter Ionah made God sent a Gourd for better shade But by the next approching light God sent a Worme consum'd it quite Sect. 12. SO Ionah sore opprest and heauy-hearted From out the Cities circuit straight departed Departed to the Easterne borders of it Where sick with anguish sate this sullen Prophet He built a Booth and in the Booth he sate Vntill some few daies had expir'd their date With ouer-tedious pace where he might see What would betide to threatned Niniuie A trunk that wanteth sap is soone decay'd The slender Booth of boughs and branches made Soone yeelded to the fire of Phoebus Ray So dri'd to Dust consuming quite away Whereat the great Iehoua spake the word And ouer Iona's head there sprang a Gourd Whose roots were fixt within the quickning earth Which gaue it nourishment as well as birth God raised vp a Gourd a Gourd should last Let wind or scortching Sunne or blow or blast As coales of fier rak'd in Embers lye Obscure and vndiscerned by the eye But being stird regaine a glimm'ring light Reuiue and glow burning a-fresh and bright So Ionah 'gan to cheare through this reliefe And ioyfull was deuoyded all his griefe He ioy'd to see that God had not forgot His drooping seruant nor forsooke him not He ioy'd in hope the Gourds strange wonder will Perswade the people he 's a Prophet still The fresh aspect did much content his sight The herball sauour gaue his sense delight So Ionah much delighted in his Gourd Enioy'd the pleasures that it did affoord But Lord what earthly thing can long remaine How momentary are they and how vaine How vaine is earth that man 's delighted in it Her pleasures rise and vanish in a minnit How fleeting are the ioyes we find below Whose tides vncertaine alwayes ebbe and flow For lo this Gourd that was so faire and sound Is quite consum'd and eaten to the ground No sooner Titan had vp-heau'd his head From off the pillow of his Saffron bed But God prepar'd a silly silly worme Perchance brought thither by an Easterne storme The worme that must obey and well knew how Consum'd it quite ne left it root nor bow Consum'd it straight within a minut's space Left nought but sleeping Ionas in the place Meditatio duodecima ¶ THe Pleasures of the world which soone abate Are liuely Emblems of our owne estate Which like a Banquet at a Fun'rall show But sweeten griefe and serue to flatter woe ¶ Pleasure is fleeting still and makes no stay It lends a smile or twaine and steales away ¶ Man's life is fickle full of winged haste It mocks the sense with ioy and soone does waste ¶ Pleasure does crowne thy youth and lulls thy wants But sullen age approching straight auaunts ¶ Man's life is Ioy and Dolor seekes to banish It doth lament and mourne in age and vanish ¶ The time of pleasure 's like the life of man Both ioyfull both contained in a span Both highly priz'd and both on sudden lost When most we trust them they deceiue vs most What fit of madnes makes vs loue them thus We leaue our liues and pleasure leaueth vs Why what are Pleasures But a golden dreame Which waking makes our wants the more extreame And what is Life A bubble full of care Which prickt by death straight empties into ayre The flowers clad in far more rich array Then earst was Salomon doe soone decay What thing more sweet or fairer then a flowre Nath'les it blooms and fades within an howre What thing more pleasing then a morning Sun And yet this pleasure euery Day is dun But thou art heire to Croesus and thy treasure Being great and endlesse endlesse is thy pleasure But thou thou Croesus heire consider must Thy wealth and thou came from and goes to dust Another's noble and his name is great And takes his place vpon a loftie seat True 't is but yet his many wants are such That better 't were he were not knowne so much Another binds his soule in Hymens knot His Spouse is chaste and faire withouten spot But yet his comfort is bedasht and done His grounds are stock't and now he want's a sonne ¶ How fickle and vnconstant's mans Estate Man faine would haue but then he knowes not what And hauing rightly knowes not how to prize it But like the foolish Dunghill-cock imploy's it But who desires to liue a life content Wherein his Cruze of ioy shall ne'r be spent Let him consider what may be desir'd The date whereof is not to be expir'd For that 's not worth the crauing to obtaine A happinesse that must be lost againe Nor
liue yet And yet liue in pleasure Alas could Sinners finde out ne'r a one More fit then Thee for them to spit vpon Did thy cheekes entertaine a Traytors lips Was thy deare body scourg'd and torne with whips So that the guiltlesse blood came trickling after And did thy fainting browes sweat blood and water Wert thou Lord hang'd vpon the Cursed Tree O world of Griefe And was all this for mee ¶ Burst foorth my teares into a world of sorrow And let my nights of griefe ne'r finde a morrow Since thou art dead Lord grant thy seruant roome Within his heart to build thy heart a Tombe Fraus Mundi 3 ¶ WHat is the World A great Exchange of ware Wherein all sorts and sexes cheapning are The Flesh the Diuell sit and cry What lack ye When most they fawne they most intend to rack ye The wares are Cups of Ioy and Beds of Pleasure There 's goodly choice downe weight and flowing measure A Soul 's the price but they giue time to pay Vpon the Death-bed on the dying Day ¶ Hard is the Bargaine and vniust the Measure When as the Price so much out-lasts the Pleasure The Ioyes that are on earth are Counterfeits If ought be true 't is this Th' are true Deceits They flatter fawne and like the Crocadile Kill where they laugh and murther where they smile They daily dip within thy Dish and Cry Who hath betray'd thee Mastre Is it I Gloria Coeli 4 ¶ WHen I behold and well aduise vpon The Wisemans speech There 's nought beneath the Sun But vanitie my Soule rebells within And loaths the Dunghill-prison she is in But when I looke to new Ierusalem Wherein 's reseru'd my Crowne my Diadem O what a Heauen of blisse my Soule enioyes On sudden rapt into that heauen of Ioyes Where rauisht in the depth of meditation She well discernes with Eye of Contemplation The Glory of God in his Imperiall Seat Full strong in Might in Maiestie compleat Where troups of Powers Vertues Cherubins Angels Archangels Saints and Seraphins Are chaunting praises to their heauenly King Where Halelujah they for euer sing Dolor Inferni 5 ¶ LEt Poets please to torture Tantalus Let gryping Vultures gnaw Prometheus And let Ixion turne his endlesse Wheele Let Nemesis torment with whips of Steele They far come short t' expresse the paines of those That rage in Hell enwrapt in endlesse woes Where time no end nor plagues finde no exemption Where cryes admit no helpe nor place redemption Where fier lacks no flame the flame no heate To make their torments sharp and plagues compleat Where wretched Soules to tortures bound shall bee Seruing a world of yeeres and not be Free Where nothing's heard but yells and sudden cryes Where fier neuer slakes nor Worme e'r dyes But where this Hell is plac'd my Muse stop there Lord shew me what it is but neuer where 1 Mors tua ¶ CAn he be Faire that withers at a Blast Or he be Strong that Ayery Breath can cast Can he be Wise that knowes not how to liue Or he be Rich that nothing hath to giue Can he be Yong that 's Feeble Weake and Wan So Faire so Strong so Wise so Rich so Yong is Man So Faire is Man that Death a parting Blast Crops his faire Flow'r and makes him Earth at last So Strong is Man that with a Gasping Breath He totters and bequeaths his Strength to Death So Wise is Man that if with Death he striue His Wisdome cannot teach him how to liue So Rich is Man that all his Debts b'ing pay'd His wealth 's the Winding-sheet wherein hee 's lay'd So Yong is Man that broke with Care and Sorrow Hee 's old enough to Day to Dye to Morrow Why bragg'st thou then Thou Worme of Fiue foot-long Th' art neither Faire nor Strong nor Wise nor Rich nor Yong. 2 Mors Christi I Thurst And who shall quench this Eager Thurst I Grieue And with my griefe my Heart will Burst I Grieue because I thurst without Reliefe I Thurst because my Soule is burnt with Griefe I thurst And dri'd with Griefe my Heart will Dye I Grieue and thurst the more For Sorrow's drie The more I grieue the more my thurst appeares Would God! I had not grieu'd out all my teares I Thurst And yet my Griefes haue made a Floud But Teares are salt I Grieue and Thurst for Bloud I Grieue for Bloud for Bloud must send Reliefe I Thurst for Bloud for Bloud must ease my Griefe I Thurst for sacred Bloud of a Deare Lambe I Grieue to thinke from whence that Deare Blood came 'T was shed for Mee O let me drinke my fill Although my Griefe remaine Entier still O soueraigne Pow'r of that Vermilion SPRING Whose Vertue neither Heart conceiues nor Tongue can sing 3 Fraus Mundi I Loue the World as Clients loue the Lawes To manage the vprightnes of my Cause The World loues me as Sheepheards doe their Flocks To Rob and spoyle them of their fleecy Locks I loue the World and vse it as mine Inne To bait and rest my tyred Carkasse in The World loues me For what To make her Game For filthy Sinne she sels me timely Shame Foorth from her Eyes doe Springs of Venome burst But like a Basiliske I 'le see her first And this my firme intended Course shall be To poyson her or she will poyson me We liue at Iarres as froward Gamesters doe Still guarding not Regarding others Foe I loue the World to serue my turne and leaue her 'T is no Deceit to Coozen a Deceiuer Shee 'l not misse me I lesse the World shall misse To lose a World of Griefe t' enioy a World of Blisse 4 Gloria Coeli EArth stands immou'd and Fixt Her Cituation Admits no locall Change no Alteration HEAVEN alway moues renuing still his place And euer sees vs with another Face EARTH standeth Fixt yet there I liue opprests HEAVEN alway moues yet there is all my Rest Enlarge thy selfe my SOVLE with Meditation Mount there and there bespeake thy Habitation Where Ioyes are full and pure not mixt with mourning All Endlesse and from which is no returning No Theft no Cruell Murther harbours there No Hoary-headed Care no sudden Feare No pinching Want no Griping fast Oppression Nor Death the stipend of our soule Transgression But dearest Friendship Loue and lasting Pleasure Aye there abides withouten stin◠or Measure Fulnesse of Riches Comfort sempeternall Excesse without a surfeiting And Life Eternall 5 Dolor Inferni THe Trump shall blow The Dead awak'd shall rise And to the Clouds shall turne their wondring Eyes The Heauen shall ope The Bridegroome foorth shall come To iudge the World and giue the World her Doome Ioy to the IVST to others Endlesse SMART To those the Voyce bids COME to these DEPART DEPART from LIFE yet dying liue for Euer For Euer dying be and yet Dye Neuer DEPART like Dogs with DIVELS take your lot DEPART like DIVELS for I know you not Like