Selected quad for the lemma: fire_n
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A64521
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Seasonable thoughts in sad times being some reflections on the warre, the pestilence, and the burning of London, considered in the calamity, cause, cure / by Joh. Tabor.
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Tabor, John.
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1667
(1667)
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Wing T93; ESTC R15193
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46,591
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114
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As threaten to Earth up the Sea with men So that our Ships may for the future strand On shelves of bodies not on shelves of sand Methinks I see the swelling billows boil Heat by the fire doth from the Guns recoil The roaring Guns which pierce the parting air With terror we on Land far distant hear They shake the massie Earth and thunder like Houses and Windows into trembling strike And each broad side which strikes my ear I think Now a brave Ship with braver Men doth sink Enraged Mortals striving to out-vie Thunder and Lightning in the lofty skie Darken the air with smoak but fire gives light Or they at noon-day would scarce see to sight Blood from the reeking Decks into the Main Pours down like water in a showr of Rain Discolouring the Ocean by its fall As if 't would turn it to a Red-Sea all Fire-ships set all on flames and make a show As Subterranean fires were from below Broke through the waves and one would think no doubt Fire strove to drink up Sea Sea to quench out The fire and men by their contentious action Put all the Elements into distraction But themselves rue most while the bloody sight Gives blood to them who do in war delight Now on the Decks some shriek with painful And others sinking are in deadly swounds wounds Here a Commander falls th' Opponents hollow The Souldiers soon in death their Leader follow Here from torn shoulder flies an arm and there From shatter'd thigh a leg the bullets tear Here wags a head off this mans brains are dasht Full in the next mans face his bowels pasht On his next neighbour and a third is found Groaning his soul out at a wide-mouth'd wound Here Bullets force drives a heart out which dies To mortals rage a bloody Sacrifice There a head from the bloody neck is rent Mounting as if to hit the Sun it meant Thus the Dutch heads we well may wish to rise And be lift up above their Enemies But I had rather we and they in Peace Might live and War might from all Nations cease Had not Astraea left the Earth and rage Possest mens bosomes in this Iron age Had not sin first divided men from God Then from themselves scattering all abroad To seek new Countries all had still been one Language and People letting Warr alone Sin is the onely make-bate in the World That hath all things into Contention hurl'd But since the Prince of Peace his happy birth Who came to reconcile both things on Earth And things in Heaven methinks those who professe Themselves his Subjects from all wars should cease One faith should be of force hearts to unite In love as much as e're one language might The second Adam should all his restore To the same concord which they had before By nature in the first and not pursue Their Christian Brethren like a Turk or Jew But what a grief 't is to good hearts to see Christians among themselves thus disagree And those for whom Christ spilt his blood life To shed each others blood in lust and strife That those who when they go to sight doe pray To the same God that each may have the day And both doe hope alike in death to be Translated hence to Heavens felicitie Should one another with such fury kill And râ—uch rejoyce each others blood to spill Good Lord how will Heav'n quietly hold those Souls who just now were here such deadly foes If some of either side to Heav'n do come And both to Dutch and English be their home Could Heav'n admit repentance grief and sorrow Find a place there those souls would surely borrow Time from their heav'nly joys this to repent And their unchristian feuds below lament Lament now Christians and leave of your slaughter There 's no bewailing but in Hell hereafter Yet 't is to be bewail'd that such a slood By Christian hands is shed of Christian blood Thus we contend to blood but all the while The holy Spirit grieves and Devils smile All the good Angels too are grieved for 't But your Contention makes the Devils sport And the slain carkases of Christians drest In blood and wounds make Lucifer a Feast And at these broils the Infidels do laugh Christians should weep but yet the most do quaff Such direful deeds just God thou sufferest Sinners for their transgressions to infest In times when blood and wounds make such ado O that our hearts were rightly wounded too And with just grief could bleed as fast as those Poor hearts who have been pierced by their foes Slack Christians slack your fury and employ Your noble Valour for a Victory More worthy praise than any you can gain By numbers of your Christian Brethren slain You Souldiers by Profession are your life A warfare and you must here live in strife But 't is a strife more with your selves than others ' Gainst certain foes and not your Christian brothers The World the Flesh the Devil these are those You must still combate with as mortal foes To your immortal bliss and these will find Tough work enough for the most warlike mind But while with Christian men we do contest We cherish and serve these foes in our brest The World rejoyces Devil takes delight Lusts of the flesh are pleas'd when Christians sight Le ts turn our force then against them and shew What noble acts our Valour there can do The Lord of Hosts our Captain is and will With Armour furnish you courage and skill You need not doubt success at all for he Who fights Gods battails shall have Victorie One lust subdued will you more glory gain Than he whose single Arm an Host hath slain For 't is more honour to o're-come within Our selves our lusts than Cities wall'd to win Great Alexander who subdued all Nations Continued slave still to his lustful Passions Be of good courage then subdue your sin And an eternal Crown and Kingdom win Or if the Warriours spirit can't be laid But it will still in blood and slaughter trade Let Christians valiant and victorious arm Turn to do Turks and Infidels the harm Which now amongst our selves we daily feel And let the Heathen fall upon our Steel There might be rais'd another holy War More truly holy than the first by far Not to get Canaan a Land accurst As well for Jews as Canaanites at first But the insulting Sultan to restrain Who hath so many thousand Christians slain And with his Hundred Thousands oft doth come Pouring destruction into Christendome Forraging wasting all with Fire and Sword Defying and blaspheming Christ our Lord. Leading away such as the Sword doth spare Into a bondage worse than death by far O that all Christian Princes could agree To hamper this Leviathan and free From his outragious Inroades all those Borders Of Christendom where he commits his murders The Asiatick Churches when I think upon Mention'd in Saint John's Revelation Oh how it grieves my heart to think that there
we still provoke the God of Heaven And therefore I proceed to add an Hortatory part perswading to Repentance and Obedience to Gods Laws as the most certain cure of our Calamities and sure way to have better times which if as we hope our woes are in a manner past yet may be of good use to us all for the securing us in a flourishing condition for time to come the Prosperity of any People usually ebbing and flowing with their Piety and Virtue And so at last I add a Consolatory Part as a Cordial for to chear the penitent and humble introducing there the Historical Relation of our War omitted in the First Part. The three first Parts I have composed in a familiar kind of compleat Verse as being for the most part Reprehensive and Hortatory therein condescending to the meanest capacities as meant for the use and benefit of all In the last where the Subject is more Heroick suitably I use quattrains closing the sense with a compleat and rise to a little higher though not aiming if I could attain it at a lofty strain I seek where to make my Verse serve my Subject and not subject my nobler matter to my Metre Now candid Reader I hope the sincerity and integrity of my Design in this Work may obtain an Apology for any defects in the management and the Divinity excuse the want of Phansie I do more than suspect I shall fall under the censure of seduced Sectaries though piously affected because I tax their Errors of Vitious persons though loyal and conformable because I tax their vices of Hypocrites especially such as mask traiterous and factious designs with pious pretences to seduce the People because I lay them open to the world furtivis nudatos coloribus and tax their villanies however palliated as contributing to our Calamities But my Prayer to God is that he would open all their eyes and turn their hearts the first to follow after Truth the second Holiness and the third sort the Truth of Holiness then I am sure we should be a flourishing Church and Nation If thou blame me Reader for any where ripping up old sores I will assure thee I do not otherwise than for fear that false Prophets have healed the hurt of the Daughter of our People slightly to let out the corruption the right way by Repentance lest they fester and break inwardly and kill their souls If thou complain of rough handling know it is done with a Chirurgeons heart to heal and not wound and if my Patient cry out of me in searching his sore as an Enemy I am well assured if he would suffer the cure he would acknowledge me in the end to be his friend and when in searching thy sore I touch thee to the quick lay thine hand on thine own heart confessing thy corruption and sin rather than stretch out that or move thy tongue to smite me who only mean thy health and welfare Read on and the sweetness of Consolation at last will allay the tartness of Reprehension before nauseate therefore nothing herein since all will do thee good if thou with candor receive and digest it Accept then kindly what is intended sincerely for Gods thy Souls and this Nations glory from him who is Thine in the Lord Jesus John Tabor To the Reader REader suspend thy Censure till thou run The whole Book over and when that is done The Author's meaning rightly understood That his Design if not his Verse is good I doubt not thou wilt say and when you see He layes our Woes on our Impietie Think not one Sin or Party he alone Doth here accuse but all and every one Assure thy self the Author doth designe That Times may mend to mend his heart and thine Curteous Reader Before thou peruse this Book I intreat thee for thine own sake to turn to and correct or supply with thy Pen these mistakes and omissions of the Printer and let not his Errors be imputed to the Author who fears some will judge he hath enough herein to answer for of his own but desires thou wilt courteously mend the Printers and candidly forgive his Errata In the Epistle to the Reader page 4. line 2. 7. for compleat r. couplet l. 9. before where add every in the Poem p. 17. l. 10. for Chelmford r. Chelmsford p. 21. l. 17. for then r. thence p. 25. l. 2 before stuffe add their pag. 30. that which is under an asterism in the margent refers to the asterism upon Lud in the next page and the asterism in the margent p. 31. answers to this on Brute p. 30. p. 32. l. 25. for land r. laud p. 33. for lately r. late p. 36. l. 21. before mere blot out are p. 37. l. 11. before him blot out of l. 14. for swettest r. sweetest p. 38. l. 7. for to r. too p. 44. l. 12. for first r. first 's p. 50. l. 8. for religious r. religions p. 56. l. 7. before glory add bliss and p. 62. l. 19. for convey r. conveys pag. 63. l. 2. before please blot out doth p. 66. l. 28. for sottishness r. foolishness p. 80. in marginal note for countries r. country as p. 81. l. 16. for own r. one Seasonable Thoughts IN SAD TIMES Reflections on the War WHere e're I go the sighing Air rebounds Sad Ecchoes to my heart and doleful sounds Of Lamentation still the Plague and War In ev'ry place the talk of all mouths are The Funeral Knells continually ring In mortal ears and thundering Guns do sing In the reporting Air by both are brought Nothing but death and slaughter to our thought Death rules at Land devouring as he please And sight who will he 's Master on the Seas Thousands at Land away he weekly sweeps By Sea he Hundreds swallows in the deeps From one poor City in few months he hurl'd So many thousands to another World As against this would a stout Army be Unsatiate yet in Town and Country he Hath slain so many Thousands as might serve An Alexander for a sure reserve If to content his great ambitious mind Another World to conquer he could find These are the dire effects Oh God! of our Transgressions and thy just avenging pow'r Did then the Persian Cyrus from an Hill Beholding his huge Host his Eye-lids fill With brackish tears to think one age revol'd All those would into ashes be resolv'd And shall so many Christians in one year Be turn'd to dust and we not shed a tear O that my head a Fountain wore and I Could vent a stream of grief from either eye Weep and blot out of Sin the crimson stain Whereby the Daughter of my People 's slain Sometimes I sit in pensive posture and Form sad Ideas of the Sea and Land How while the proud insulting Dutch and we Contend in dreadful Fights for Masterie Hell opes her mouth and in few hours receives Such crouds of Souls as no time ere retrieves Of Bodies such huge numbers sinking then