his power away he that climbed can hardly crawle and he that had Feathers to fly can scarce finde Feet to follow for so much do the words of our subject import Draw me and I will run after thee And now with a free will answer me all free welwillers you that have still the power your Father had in Paradice that can overthrow Sinne and conquer Sathan shut up Hell and open Heaven and baffle all those principalities and powers temptations and corruptions which often in our Journey to Heaven doe make us lye becalmed does not thine eye check to see our subject does not thy heart smite thee to reade thine inability Peradventure thou wilt aske how God drawes the Soule I could answer severall wayes God is not ty'd to the education condition meanes time matter nor manner of his creature And his wayes are above our thoughts as far as an infinite Creator is beyond a finite creature it is the prerogative of his grace to draw one man one way and another man another way all of which for their number and nature are past our finding out neverthelesse I shall name five wayes and they be these By his Workes By his Word By his Lash By his Light And by his Love First God draws by his workes and this I believe would puzzle the Intellects of Angels to rehearse who I think are the fittest Orators to utter the glory of his greatnesse since they are not clouded with a vaile of flesh but can behold those works of wonder in a more perfect forme which I believe doth not a little amaze those glorious creatures while they bow before the Immortall throne What meanes the forming of this spacious universe and the setting so faire a fabrick in such a curious frame the Imperiall Heavens where Argelâ—sing Hallelujahs I shall not speak of that sence it passeth the highest capacity and in relation of which many abler pens than mine have been already dull'd it being circkled with such brightnesse and glory in such a capacious Orbe that no mortall can behold and not drop downe and dye And when Aurora sets open her golden gates in what a Majesty the Sun arises as from a bed of Roses to rouze up sleepy mortals and lend his light to all unmuzling Darknesse from the lower World And with what swiftnesse doth he hurry through the Zodiack adding Summers heat and Winters cold and sometimes a Medium when he mingles his sire with the cold and freezing Aire and how welcome is his approach to the Earth who against the returne of his Chariot wheeles doth cast off her mantle of mourning and adornes her selfe with costly fruits sweet flowers perfumed finells rich odours amorous glances sweet smiles beauty bravery dignity and glory wrapt in a robe of the purest dye and flourishing in a never-fading livery of green Beside the Moon Planets and fixed Starres and all those Royall Armies that spangle the Canopie that in their nightly Watches they might adorne the darkned Throne when Darknesse drawes a sable Curtaine o're the Skie and the Sun hath done the day What shall I say for the time would faile me to tell you of the Royall Armies of Heaven their secret workings in their severall Orbes the Golden Mines costly Jemms rich Jewels of the Earth her pompous Apparell delitious fare Physicall Herbes gallant Fruits sweet Flowers the wonders of Art the hidden fecresies of Nature that lye in the boundlesse Earth unfathom'd Sea unseen Fire and perfumed Aire What meane the shining Lamps of Heaven that chase away darknesse from the world the dividing of the unruly Elements the hanging of the Earth just in the Center of the Heavens her wondrous motion between the two Poles her equall distance from the flaming Chariot of the Sun and the hidden region of Fire lest with contagious heate our hearts should faile lest we should suck up hot lightning and imbrace in our bosomes Fire in the stead of Aire The workes of God have in all ages drawn Souls as may witnesse the Plagues of Egypt the Prosperity of Israel the overthrow of Nations the clashing of Kingdomes the dividing of the red Sea the Manna in the Wildernesse the thundering of the Law on Mount Sina the Birth of our Saviour the deeds that he did the Sick that were healed the Eyes that were opened â—â—e Devills dispossessed the Wicked converted the Lame that were cured the Lepers that were cleansed the Dead that were raised the calming of the Sea to the Disciples the Holy Ghost that was given to the Apostles the draught of Fishes to Peter the Vision from Heaven to Paul These works of God I say have in all ages wrought on both Sinners and Saints causing the one to admire and the other to adore Secondly God drawes by his word and if it were demanded what word I should answer the sweetest words that Art or Love can frame the word of the Gospell what directions dehortations what councels and comforts what inticements and allurements every Line is penn'd with Love every Page hath its promise that he that runs may read and if it were not so how should the poore Pilgrim wander to the holy land when on the one hand the world presents him with riches and rarities honour and pleasure presumption and pride dignity vaine-glory stately buildings costly faire trampling Horses rich Jewels rare Musick inchaunting faces amorous glaunces sweet smiles when his journey to Heaven is strewed with Briars and Thornes difficulties and dangers afflictions desertions trialls temptations being despised disgraced afflicted tormented and abused with envy and folly discourtesie disloyalty opinion and disdaine and how often doe these poore Soules strike Saile and lye becalm'd when the Heavens are covered with blacknesse and darknesse and the Sun of glory is mantled in a sable cloud and hath turned the glorious morn into a gloomy day Therefore the Almighty wisdome thought best to draw by his word and no part of his word so prevalent as promises to support the Soule in the midst of sorrow they being the promises of this life and of that which is to come the promises of pardon of sinne of rest for the Soule of protection from danger of deliverance from Feare of communion with the Spirit of fellowship with the Sonne of eternall life and the Fathers love and how exceeding great and precious are they great in the superlative the greatest All that we have are nothing to promises they are like Spikenard in the Kings Palace or Manna in the Wildernesse or Solomons Chariot paved with Love or Balme in Gilead or Moses rod or the ointment poured on Jesus Christ or that perfume that ran about the head of Aaron being for our security in the possession of the Prince of Peace built upon the rock of ages the Usurer it may be hath rusty prosperity the high-borne flashy dignity the Prodigall a puffe of Pleasure the Souldier a blast of honour But tell me thou Silkeworme or speak thou glorious slave how long will
Cool'd as the angry North when Jove makes bold To clâ—ath the Universe with freezing cold Sometimes I was in Heaven or else not farre Below it where I saw each wandring Starre Move in their severall Orbs Sometimes mine eyes Beheld great wonders as if all the Skies Were pav'd with Pearles and Rubies then I 'de run To view the glittering Palace of the Sun Where I beheld how Phoebus drove his throne Over the Spangled vault and I made moane He went so swift away with hot desire Lashing his Horse with whips of flaming Wier Then to the middle Region of the Aire My fancy would retire to view the rare Agreement of the Elements how they Keep in their bounds and every houre obey The Ordinance of Heaven and then my minde Would thinke how clouds rode on the winged winde Now horrid Aeolus who is heard too oft And wide-mouth'd Boreas raises stormes aloft â—he sable Clowds have blotted all the Skies And to the apprehension of all eyes â—ave banishâ—d the Sunnes glory all is black With angry Clowds the Poles do seem to crack The Axeltrees to rend the Fabrick shakes The Exalations and the Vapours makes The flashy Lightnings and the Winds to flie With Thunder-bolts from Jove's Artillerie Then on the suddaine all is hush and gone And smiling Phoebus in his kingly Throne The roaring Thunder now is quite given o're And angry Jove will fire his Guns no more Neptune appeares to calme the swelling maine Delus and Boreas now are friends againe The Clowds are vanish'd and the Heavens do smile As if they did but fright us all this while And all was done in jest but to invoak Us to believe a God with that I'woke What horrid shape is that that calls dim Night To hide my torments that abjure the light With that like thunder or like flashy fire His fury rose Wherefore dost thou inquire Sayes he I am the King of feares and I Was sent with summons from Eternity I dwell in that dark Vault where the black line Of Death is drawne where Pluto Proserpine Proud Beelzebub and Mephestophilus Pale-sac'd Oblivion horrid Cerberus Millions of Haggs and fearefull Furies haunt Grim Charon and the churlish Rhadamant Where Etna's hill doth pour her hideous flames Into the starry Region and proclaims A terrour to the world by soaring higher Than flashy lightening or feeble fier While the amazed Marriner from a sarre Looking aloft admires what blazing Starre Threatens the aged Moon because they be Fearfull fore runners of a tragedie At this turn'd my face and wept till all My châ—â—kâ—â— were bath'd and is my Funerall So suddaâ—ly to be and is there none Will send a sigh to heaven a tear a grone Will no one begg for me that heaven would stay His hand a while and give me longer day Unhappy mâ—ther where are all your gaines Poore satisfaction for your nine moneths paines Was it for nought but this oh rather why Did not weep a shower of teares and die Within my Nurses armes Then might I have No fostering but a cradle and a grave Oh beauteous Innocence how blest art thou Sweet Vertue too oh might I tarry now How should I love thee then I should not feare To flie into the bosome of my Deare Where lifted up ravisht I should behold That shining City built of burnisht gold Like to transparent glass then should I dare To travaile through the dwellings of the aire To immortality where I might see Wonders deny'd to our capacity There is perpetuall Youth perpetuall Spring â—o evening cold no heat nor no such thing â—s time or feeble age nor timorous feare â—nvy deceipt and pride are strangers there â—here is no dread of horror to perplexâ— â—o poverty to curb no care to vexe â—o fearâ— of Theeves to rob no Moth to rust â—o winking fraud no trembling distrust â—o trading there nor trafiâ—king for toyes â—ut every man his owne desires enjoyes â—here troops of glorious Angels shall surprize Having rare pleasures sitting on their eyes â—he new-come Soule in white transparant vailes â—esembling Snow their garments deckt with trailes Of Orient Pearle with which you may behold â—right Diamonds their girdles are of Gold â—heir eyes like morning rayes but shine more raâ—e â—ike threds of fringed Gold their frizled haire â—heir countenances sweet where Love incloses â—he Lillies with a bed of fragrant Roses â—nd send a thousand thousand graces downe â—rom their faire eyes to welcome me and crowne My Soule with endlesse pleasures and delights Of rarities their Snowy hands invites â—o their rare walkes where that Immortal love â—ts richly shadowed in a hallowed grove â—here pleasures still are length'ned with device â—heir food is swelling fruit of Paradice Where on a banke of Violets our eares â—hall drinke the ravishing musick of the spheres While we sing Hallelujahs to 't and cry No Joy no triumph to Eternity Oh! If the King of Heaven would please to smile And to my dayes adde but a little while A little little longer that poor I Might learne to live before I come to dye How should I prize it then with regenerate feare Would I goe bathe my eye-lids with a teare For my black crimes how should I slight this ball Of Earth and tread and trample upon all The glory of the world then should my dayes Be past in purity and spent in praise But now I see my labouring sands are run From times swift houre glasse the dayes bright Sun Is hurryed to the shades where envious night Will hide the lustre of his glorious light And now 't is vaine for me thus to implore I must be gone and shall see Man no more Death I have out-stayed my patience let 's away Together yonder comes the dawning day And still we linger on cease thy vaine prayers They are too tedious and my waighty affaires Will not admit delay thy weake desire Is vaine thus thus I 'le quench my flameing Ire Time Hold I command thee hold or by my powers Yeares ages seasons moneths dayes minutes houres And by the spangled Palace of the Sun By all their glories ere my glasse is run Strike if thou dar'st strike look here this hand Hath brought from heaven a powerful countermand I 'le puff thy power away and banish thee To that low vault of black eternity Stand back or to the shades thou shalt be hurld I 'le make thee cease triumphing o're the world At this Death vanisht and who ever saw Those timerous people that were struck in awe With that great Comet that did once appeare Within the Horizon of our Hemisphere May guesse how we all wondred at the story Being much amazed at this Persons glory Therefore 'twixt grief or feare joy hope or rage I thus replyed What mean these Changes What has Time or Age To do with us What sodaine Change is this What glorious Guest What Bird of Paradise Does here attend us What bright Aâ—gel's he Has left the Palace of Eternity To grace my Funerall with his
live and better too for here I behold Angels of a higher Spheare Which sung me amorous Eclogues lullabyes And charm'd soft sleep into my troubled eyes Eas'd my deluded fancy put my braine And my Souls Organs into tune againe Oh how shall I adore you you whose fiers With hallowed flames so sweetly did inspire This better soule of reason and did see My paine and came from Heaven to pity me How shall I serve you now and die so pure That I may come to that sweet place where you are Where Saints and Angels arme in arme doe walke Through those blest groves whose sweet discourse talk Is love where we each other may behold In everlasting glory uncontroul'd To all Eternity And Oh my God! Hide all my faults in love let not thy rod Afflict for ever why dost thou take such paines With wormes Oh wash away my guilt staines With thy deare merits that which is above Desert crown me not with Laurels but with love And then Oh then though foolish fancies fill My measured lines and undervalued quill With scorne and though the basest of all men On earth slight the Geometry of my Pen Yet I will now goe soare a little higher And light my blazing torch with holy fire That my poore Tapor may resemble thine Whose sparkling glories are of fire Divine And when these lips shall faile to speak Oh then When all my earthly worke is done and when My pen is dull'd and when I shall restore Nature her debt when I shall be no more Then grant without a blemish I may flee Into the Palace of Eternity Or shew me here the promised Land that I May live and wander thither when I dye Draw me and I will runne after thee THus I poore I in Pilgrims weed obscure Surround the world yet faine away would fly To Heaven for alas I am too sure That if I am intangled here I dye Yet when I see this price is got with paine I set me downe and count my labour vaine Resolving to stand still or wander back againe 2. Sol's flying Horse whose nostrils vomit flames And from their Lungs spit forth quotidian fire His Whips of flaming Wyre their speed proclaimes Yet their Immortall spirits scorne to tyre Till downe th'Olympick hill they make their way In fresh cariere and Tytan's glittering raye Doth hurry to the shades and Sol has done the day 3. But oh I tire some Angells from above Lend me your aid is there no gentle hand To guide me to the Pasace of my love And lead me prisoner to the promis'd land Alas these up-hill wayes are hard to trace I 'm unacquainted with that holy place But run quite out of breath ere I begin the race 4. My weake desires are but like sodaine flashes Of Lightning in unwholsome troubled aire And sin like Thunder every minute dashes Me down my deeds are farre more foule than faire When shall I end my race that run so slow Or how escape from Death that doe not know The way that leads to Life where whither shall I go 5. If should fly to wealth that 's but a trouble And who â—an glory in uncertaine gaine And if I sly to beauty that 's a bubble Wealth is but want and pleasure is but paine Earths gaine is losse her sweets are all but sowre Her highest joy is vanisht in an houre Aals all flesh is grass Death crops the fairest flower 6. To Heavens high Palace therefore will I steere My wandring course Oh that some gentle winde Would fill my Sailes why should I tarry here And in this vaile of misery be confin'd To sin and sorrow Lord let these my wayes Be led by thee and I will waste these dayes Which now I spend in Teares in speaking out thy praise 7. Behold my Body how obscure it lyes Alas Free-will is but an idle story Can my dead heart or these my Leaprous eyes Direct me to the Palace of high glory Phoeb with her sable Hemisphere would stray And every wandring Starre would lose his way If Sol should hide his face the giver of the day 8. Let Love and Terror both together awe me I am the Starre be thou my glorious Sun Thy light must guide me and thy love must draw me I have no strength to stand no power to run Oh wound my bosome with an amorous dart Of holy fire the thoughts of what thou art Invites incites delights my joy my love my heart The Soliloquie IT was in the day when the Soule was armed with Vertue and unarmed Innocencie singing her Epithalamiums among the trees of the Garden like a Bird of Paradice 'T was then when she could spread her airy wings and fly to Heaven chaunting her sonnets with the Hallelujahs of Angels in her well-tun'd Layes to the delight of her Lover Before Sensuality Security Pride Discourtesie Opinion and Disdaine had blinded those well-form'd eyes and blackt so faire a face but now instead of Aspiring he is Descending instead of soaring to Heaven he must goe sow the Earth where his sweaty Pain must curb his aspiring Pride This was the day if it might be called day the latter part whereof was Tragicall wherein I think the Sunne was muffled in a black mantle of clouds which resembled ink put into water and like a curtaine of night did overspread the Universe as if they meant to banish out the day or like another Phaeton into some unknown world to drive the flaming throne The Heavens that sometimes seemed to smile at Mans Innocencie upon whose well-form'd body if the Sun in his pride had shot a burning ray then gentle Zepherus with soft and silken wings would fan coole aire upon him But now the thundring Heavens and stormy Winds strive which shall be loudest the first with their horrid cracks doe shake the Fabrique as if they would break the Axletrees of the Earth and hurle her from her Artique and Antartique Poles The other with roaring gusts of wind boyle up such mighty waves and shoot such angry surges at the Sun as if they meant to drowne the day or in their furie to wash away the world Thus Man is thrust out of Paradice and instead of having converse with Angels he is become a companion for Devils he that aspired so much after knowledge knows nothing now but that which he would not know ah me how is the beauty of Innocency become a map of misery the Man that was made Immortall to live hath now received Sentence to dye ah me how are the mighty fallen he that was once the Image of Heaven the Glory of the Earth the wonder of the World the pride of Nature and the Angels true Idea is now a curse to the Earth and an offence to Heaven borne to misery and banisht out of glory whose dayes of life are hasting whose death comes on poasting having no power to lengthen the one nor friends to lament the other The symptomes of Immortality are gone and sinne hath puft
Angels from the Canopie of Love to catch my Orizons and beare my night oblations to the holy one but light doth chase these black delusions now like darknesse from the rising of the morne since I my selfe am nothing I 'le goe to him that hath the treasure of all If he will please to except me I will cease to be my owne and live to his glory no otherwise that I might redeem those vaine-spent houres which I have throwne away Fiftly and lastly God drawes the Soule by his Love And here sweet Readers I should indite an Epithalamium of Love but having lost my best Fancies with my Fortunes I shall rather darken than dignifie so rare a Subject set Hills on Hills till they aspire above the lofty Alps whose proud imperious Piramids may serve as a Rampant against the Sunnes rage and all is below Love 't is not the treasure of the world in one the wealth of Tagus nor the rich Peru nor Pearle enough to pave the Courts of Kings mountaines of Silver nor mines of golden Ore that can buy Love It is the mirror of Earth the majesty of Heaven the ornament of the Soule the beauty of the Body the glory of the Spheares the upholder of the Universe the delight of Man the Dignity of Angels the map of Honour and the worlds great wonder Which when the Soule once tasteth how is it raised with Joy how ravisht with Delight how rich is he in Adversity how merry in Misery reckoning his Poverty prosperity his Afflictions felicity his Disgraces high dignity as having nothing yet possessing all things delighting in company yet loves to be alone praying for life yet desirous to dye counting his dayes but houres and yet his minutes years And though this Soule may be as unwelcome to the Peacocks of the world as Ink upon their Gorgets Water in their Shoos Dirt upon their Cheeks or Ashes in their Eyes yet he is borne of the Family of Heaven and lives more high than they His Drink is Wine of Consolation his Bread the food of the Gospell his cloathing the Armour of Righteousnesse his Shield the Shield of Faith his Dowry the Kingdome of Glory his Recreation is Religion his Bed the bosome of Abraham under the Canopie of Love surrounded by Guardian Angels where he doth as well he may teach sorrow how to sing sighing his crying Elegies in Heavenly raptures sending many a groan to Heaven that he might be dissolved till soft and silken slumbers close his amorous eyes But is this Act our owne can the blinde eye put a difference 'twixt light and darknesse can fordid Earth out-vie the shining Heavens or a Candle vie with the glory of the Sun at the top of noon day can deformity become purity or Devils plead with holy Angles can Poverty purchase Dignity or the thing that is sensuall become supernaturall Oh no! It is the worke of the Creator therefore bow not thy glory to the Creature That God should come a wooing to thy Soule to thee that hadst no comelinesse nor beauty that God should love thee who hadst no lovelinesse in thee that God should lay out so much and yet look for so little that God should speak to thee when Man onely spake to others and that thou shouldst feel his worke when others did but here his Word that God should summe up thy Sighs and bottle up thy Teares and for a little insamy crowne thee with a Crowne of Glory that God should convert thee in the morning of thy dayes and let others goe on till the evening of their age that he should give thee a token of Heaven when so many thousands drop into Hell that thou shouldst be converted with joy when others have had thunder claps of Mount Sinah ringing in their eares while they have sailed through the Red Sea of sorrow in the midst of the valley of Achor thou hast been drawne by the still voice of a promise thy wayes were strowed with Roses thy footsteps washt with butter and thou hast been allured by Love and then that God should Metamorphose thy nature and turne thee from a Nabal to an Abigal from a Demos to a David from a Judas to a John from a Publican to a Puritan and then lead thee by an Eye of Faith and the powerfull Arme of Love to trust thy Soule upon his bare word to all Eternity whether thy Judgement may be Life or Death The SOULES Trance Soul I Shall never be able to get any ease for my trouled heart just such another fit of amazement fell upon me when Tread of the Vision from Heaven that shone about the head of Paul then was I in as great a straight as now therefore I will say with him Lord what wilt thou have me doe If Man in Innocency who was a piece of Excellency the Image of Heaven Companien of Angels and Lord of Earth had then no power to stand how then shall be secure from a fall If he that resembled Heaven could not then I that am like to Hell shall not Oh my heart how happy had I been if I had died as soon as I was borne or if these wretched eye had never seen the day then had I not seen mine owne deserved overthrow but I will reason no more the remnant of my dayes that I shall languish here I 'le give to Contemplation and passe my wearyed time in Teares and see if in the midst of sorrow I can weep my selfe away and like a hunted Partridge hide my selfe For I Must waste my Soule in sorrow till I dye Christ What Man art thou that when Nights gloomy shades hath drawne her sable Curtaine o're the Sky and banisht out the Day durst stand to question Heaven whose sacred name thy black unhallowed tongue ought not to mention but on thy knees with reverence say canst thou plead with him at whose command attend those sulphurous flames which Aetna's fiery mouth doth vomit into Ayre why is thy heart so full of carnality to dispute of Mans ability and question Heavens love were all the powers of Hell come downe in Battle array to beare thee captive in their furious Armes though they should surround thee with hot Lightning and cast their fiery darts to wound thee as thick as Atoms in the Aire yet I alone would stand thy fierce assault and with a blow I 'de quell their pride and set my Prisoner free Soul How comely is deformity beautified at thy approach and all that blacknesse chac'd away that darkned my understanding with a frowne resembling the majesty of the Sun ushered by glory from his shining throne but as it would be presumption in me to thinke I merit forgivenesse from thee so would it be rebellion to refuse thy profered love which is everlasting life but I am unworthy Christ Poor Soul remember how deare thou art in Heavens eyes 't was not the treasure of a thousand Worlds Mountaines of Silver nor Mines of Gold promises of Men purchase of
Crowns policy of States purity of Saints nor power of Angels that could redeem thee from eternall death till I did pay the price and wilt not thou believe me now except my profferred love and let me lead through this darkned vale thou canst not finde the way alone see if I will not bring thee to my Fathers house and lay thee under the Canopie of Love though dangers were before thee as thick as Starres above thee my hand should crush them all and with an angry breath I 'le blast their fury in their height of pride Soul Oh my deare let me not see paradice in a vision that when I wake it may appeare a dreame I know thou canst doe all things but I am so stained with Spots and drest in raggs of such deformity that I shall but fall as dirt upon thy Cheeks or Ashes in thine Eyes the best I have is but unwilling willingnesse why dost thou descend below thy incomparable throne to trouble thine eares with me Alas what can I give thee for all thy paines but Rebellion and sure the saving of such a wretch as I will not advance thy glory but speak apace my Sighs my best Orators I faine would resigne my will to thee for ever Oh guide and direct me for I am wholly thine Christ How comely are thy eyelids in their Tears which sit upon thy face like Arythrian Pearl with a Vermylian dye they shine like to the eye-lids of the morne for when the Sun retires behinde a cloud a while to weep alone unseen methinkes he lookes like thee those drops upon thy cheeks are like the early dew that comes to kisse the Rose and in a Summer morne doth fall into the bosome of a flower the Courts of Kings or Princes Palaces are poor habitations I had rather live with thee than with the greatest Monarchs of the World Soul Oh what is there in me worthy of love I shall be the unworthiest Instrument that ever was made to celebrate thy praise The Organs of my soul are all untuned and every noble faculty of my spirit is obscure I am poore and despis'd and the world rejects me but 't is no matter if thou wilt love me though I be hated of all but how shall I spend my weary houres when thou art gone away Christ I 'le send the Spirit to beare thee company when thou dost sit alone and sometimes dropst a teare his hand shall wipe it away and glad thy heart teach sorrow how to sing and when thou walkest abroad a guard of Angels shall secure thee from injury my love Soul When I am sad alone my busie thoughts shall fly on wings of contemplation and see thee in Heaven and I will watch and pray till stealing slumbers with soft and airy wings shall bring my languishing Spirit to the Visions of Eternity where I may dream of thee and when I wake I 'le walk and view the world and when I see the spangled Canopie and behold the wondrous motion of the Orbs I 'le thinke upon thy glory there Christ I 'le goe prepare a place for thee a place in eternity above the teeth of time there where the grey-ey'd morne ushers the flaming Chariot of the day surrounded in brightnesse and glory where we will dwell in temples not made with hands in streets of Gold like to transparant glasse and when the houre-glass of thy life is run and time hath brought thy journey to an end I le dresse thy temples in a victors Orbe and arch them with a Crowne Soul Well while I live here I 'le be exceeding humble and if I can holy in all my actions I 'le resemble thee If sinfull thoughts begin to staine my Soule I 'le weep them o're ere I have thought them out If I am abused I will get upon the wings of prayer and tell thee all my wrongs my life shall be a continuall repentance I will not back-slide rather than so I will wast my Soule with Sobs and Sigh away my Body into aire Christ Farewell dearest farewell make hast and meet me in Heaven let not the assaults of sin daunt thee but with an Heroick heart stand the fiery trialls remaine as spotlesse as my love I will goe before to the Palace of Peace scituated in Eternity the purest milke white robes shall be our vestments for the Marriage day and our Musick the Halleluja's of Angels run then with patience for when thou comest to the end of the race I will welcome thee home And wee 'l knit fast the bands Of Marriage and in glory joyne our hands Soul And doth this empty world deserve thus much of me to steale my heart in the prime of all my age that I should lift up my voice in my best tunes chaunting amorous Sonets hourely to its praise no every of these have left me now dull melancholy the picture of my sorrow Oh how the object of my Soules delight did please himselfe to incourage me did I enjoy that happinesse for ever I should have some of Heaven here but now what joy have I to live whose life is but a trouble this world this poore this low this transitory world is but a scene of sorrow 't is but a dying life or living death and that which troubles me is how long it will be ere I shall have his company againe when he went away me thoughts he resembled the flod Sun when downe the Westerne world he drives his teem leaving the Vniverse in a mantle of mourning and I could wish my night were coming too why do I languish thus since I cannot see his face I will goe heare his word that I may learne to doe his will methoughts he had me fight against temptations and look for fiery tryalls I will doe it and for the love of him I will passe a thousand dangers In which my courage shall Stand up Victorious or in battle fall Ye Sons of Honour Heires of Glories Crown whose sacred feet must trample the Holy Fields what is it that makes you sing in sorrow and gloâ—y in your shame that crownes your hearts with courage and beautifies your faces with a smile that sets fortitude upon your browes and places sweetnesse in your amorous eyes that doth advance you in adversity makes you rich in poverty and glory in indignity is it not Love 〈◊〉 what is it that will keep up your spirits at that Dreadfull Day when the Trumpet shall be sounded the World shall be startled the Graves shall be opened the Dead shall be raised and the Unjust shall be Judged will it not be Love when the Fabrick of the World shall be shaken and the Axletrees or the Earth broken and Time shall lose his way when the Kings of the Earth and all their mighty Armies shall looke pale and their winged Bulwarks grapple and their battered Kingdomes fly about their eares in clouds of dust when the Spheres are sweltting in flames the Earth surrounded by fire and bufling windes beat Thunder out of Aire when with terror from on high the day shall be as black as if Don Phoebus frighted from his chaite left ugly darknesse on his Chariot wheels and indeed Love may be compared to Wine with which Kings sometimes have drunke themselves to such a height of kindnesse that they have remembred Majesty no more alas every Christian hath his crosse every day its difficulty every time its trouble and every action a a severall temptation the best of what is here is but Sunshine mixt with Raine sweet with fower and every smile intermingled with a frowne but then ye shall put off your flâ—shly garments â—â—…corruption and be drest in the habit of Heaven out of the wardâ—â—p of glory and be entertained with the pleasures of Paradice where there are incomparable delicates for the taste sweet persumes for the smell rare musick for the Eare ravishing objects for the Eye where thou shalt lye on a Bed of Roses in swelling soft Eternity and be lul'd in Angels armes but it being beyond description too high for imagination impossible for the minde to conceive it unlawfull for the tongue to utter it I shall conclude the Book for methinkes a gloomy Cloud doth stop the passage of my Pen and I can write no more FINIS