hate inflict since hell began That was not heaped on this God and Man The wound was sore that crau'd a salue so sharpe The disease shamefull that fowle shame must cure Though Dauid healed Saul with sound of harp Our Dauids selfe must swoune ere health procure So many Sauls possest with Sathans store Must make the remedy exceeding sore O Pride the swelling Sore that nought can swage But such extreame deiection of the Highest O Sinne that do'st within the marrow rage Can nothing kill thee but the death of Christ O depth profound of Heau'ns iust doomes who may Tracke out th'Almightie in his pathlesse way He patient beares these contumelious wrongs So to supplant the kingdome of our pride He onely wise knowing what to all belongs Knew base we were vnlesse he should abide Basenesse it selfe to honour vs thereby And knewe we could not liue but he must die Thinke now how he that giues eternall rest Did restlesse passe away that hellish night VVhere Darkenesse children still did him molest VVith whatsoere his soule could most despight If any forc'd by sleepe began to nod Like Diuels they wake themselues by grieuing God There sits he blindfold that doth all things see Bats flying in his face that light doe loath Each one as irefull as an angrie Bee Doe sting his blessed Soule and Body both O restlesse hate that rest reiects wherefore Because the Lord of Rest should rest no more Ye heau'ns weepe out your world-enlight'ning eies Showre downe the Sunne and Moone in Teares of blood So in grosse darkenesse make a Deluge rise Of Gore to glut these furies with that flood For such a bloody worke of darkenesse done By fiends or furies nere saw Moone nor Sunne O hell that do'st all Cruelties surround Blush with bright Flames that blacke to burne are wont Vntill thy faces flush these fiends confound Sith thee in crneltie they farre surmount Light them with flames coufounding with their light To see the meed of their past hellish spight But O fraile Muse be not transported so VVith passion past the patience of thy Christ VVho praies for those that thus doe worke his woe Then O doe not his praier so resist But he is God but meerely Man can nere Endure such liellish rage to see or heare Kind Nature Night ordain'd for sweet repose To tired lymbes and wits through Daies turmoile But they the same quite opposite transpose And in tormenting Christ themselues they toyle How can it be but in eternall Night Iustice with restlesse plagues should them requite VVhat diff'rence is betweene those Hymnes diuine The Angels chaunt vnto his praise in heau'n And these discordant Notes of harsh Repine They are as Fame and Shame no lesse vneu'n For Sanctum Sanctum sing those sacred Quires But Crucifige Crucifige theirs O sweet celestiall Spirits Angelicall Are ye not maz'd with worlds of wonderment To see the Subiect of your Praises all To such shame subiect yet therewith content Your Tongues vnable are though most diuine Such Paine and Patience rightly to define What temper is that heart that is so hard That feeling this from bleeding yet forbeares VVhat substance are those eies that in regard Of this distresse dissolue not into Teares If Eies seeing this melt not and Hearts that feele They are not Hearts nor Eies but Flint or Steele But harke now Crowes and Curses interchange The Cocke and Peter striue to crowe and curse Who should exceed but Peter O most strange Giues Three for Two and yet he had the worse VVere not infernall Legions and thefe Fiends Ynough to vex thee Christ but must thy Friends Wert thou so hardie Peter in thy word What time in peace thou vowd'st with him to die And wert thou no lesse hardie with thy Sword In the first fight and from him now wilt flie That Man that ouercomes must weare the Crowne Thou art no Man a Wo-man put thee down Though All forsake Him thou wilt neuer faile Him These be thy vaunts and vaunting this did'st vow Yet thou with griefe do'st with his Foes assaile him And to a Maid more than a Maid do'st show Thy woman-weakenesse weaker than a woman For better is a woman farre than no man Saw'st thou that Man was God yea God and Man In all his workes and did He by his pow'r Strengthen thee Weakling for He all things can To march vpon the Seas foot-failing floore Saw'st thou by Reuelation He was Christ And yet for feare of his Crosse him deni'st Fear'st thou that Crosse that is the Tree of Life What! loath'st thou Death and yet do'st feare to liue Do'st strife eschew that is the end of strife Wilt thou not take because thou wilt not giue Is thy Soule rationall and yet thy Soule Doth Reasons reason brutishly controule Did He in loue O 't was a matchlesse fauor Take thee with him more firme to make thy faith To see God this God glorifie on Thabor And heard'st his voyce whom Heau'n and Earth obai'th Say 't was his Sonne more bright than Sunne thou saw'st Yet from God and his Sonne thy selfe withdraw'st Soule-wracking Rocke Faiths Rocke of ruine Peter Art thou for Christ his Church a fit foundation That in Faith from Faith sans Faith art a fleeter Tends thy faiths fleeting to Faiths confirmation If that stand fast that hath so false a Ground It most miraculous must needs be found Did'st thou desire with glorie rauished To Tabernacle Tabor there to dwell VVould'st thou in Heau'n with Christ be glorifi'd And not consociate him in his woes hell Art thou austere in life yet sensuall Thou Eschew'st the Gall and wilt but Honie chew Gods Councels are his owne therefore vnknownè All whose Intents no rules of Reason want Els that to thee he hath such fauour showne VVhat reason i st But God is God Igrant By whose Prerogatiue he may doe All And make thee and his firmer by thy fall Do'st thou esteeme it such a fowle reproach To know that Wisdom whence all Knowledge springs Think'st it no shame to set such shame abroach As cracks thy credit and the King of Kings Was Grace s'inglorious found that for thy grace Thoú gracelesly abiur'dst him to his face Could they acknowledge him that were his foes VVhen thou deniedst him that wert his friend By thy deniall they might well suppose That he was such as falsly they pretend Weepe Peter weepe for fowle is thine offence Wash it with Teares springing from Penitence T' was time to turne His Soule-conuerting Eies To thee peruerted Peter reas'nlesse Man Lest brutish feare which did thee Beast surprize Should make thee as thy selfe thy God to ban Can Mercies eies behold a fault so fowle With louing looke and not in anger scowle They louing lookt O constant Lord of Loue What is vile Man that Man thou valuest so Must his Redemption make thy heart to proue Though he false-hearted be such hels of woe Let Loue it selfe this Loue alone admire That loues for hate and dies through Loues
desire Those glitt'ring Sunnes his bright transpiercing eies On Peters eies as on two Fountaines shine By whose attractiue vertue Dropsarise Then downe distill in showres of Angels wine Who with heau'ns hoast therefore their tongues imploy To praise their God in hymnes starke drunke with ioy VVho cannot loue to thinke on loue so high That loues in Mercie Iustice Obiects hate Yea loues a Man that doth that loue defie VVho cannot die for such loue liues too late Let neuer Adams sonnes through Eaues offence To God and Nature vse such violence This hellish Night beeing ended then suppose This heau'nly Day-starreled to Plutos court Pilats I would say but respect of woes He there endur'd made true and false report Yet did this Comet cleare make Pilate pause Ere doom'd him as contagious by the lawes In the diuine sweet features of his face That might an heart of steele relent with ruth Pilate no doubt beheld a world of grace And well perceiu'd his Innocence and Truth Yet must he die doe Pilate what he can And for his Iudge that Monster is the Man To doome to death Rights wrongers is but right Although we wrongfully doe deeme them so That 's wronging Right as Men that haue no sight In that which righteous God alone doth kno But when the Conscience cries the doome is wrong The tongue pronounceth Hell confound that Tongue Dismist by Pilate see thy most iust Iudge From this Iudge most vniust led to a King Much more vniust loe how Hee 's forc'd to trudge Through thicke and thin harke how their clamors ring About his Eares and see the people flocke To see whereat to wonder gaze and mocke To Herod come that long had long'd to see him See now as if some Iuggler he had bin That would shew tricks to all men that would fee him How he prouokes Him some trick to begin But for He silent stands and thwarts his mind He holds Him but a Foole and foole vnkind Oye great Princes little doe ye know What wrong you doe vnto your high estate Tinsult through pompous pride on States below And thinke all Fooles not frolickt with like Fate Ye are no Gods and therefore know ye not Whom ye abuse and what may be your Lot This Foole wise foole holds Him full wise a foole And on the Mantle must that fooles doth fit He learn'd his wisdome in grosse Follies schoole But Wisdome on her Throne in Christ doth sit One seem'd not was the other was not seem'd Yet seem'd a God indeed though Man was deem'd He man was deem'd indeed that stird vp strife And crost the course the way ward world still runnes Life was accus'd with deadly sinne in life God was a Diuell deem'd by Sathans sonnes A Diuell deem'd or Man that had a Diuell But such a Man is worse or full as euill But Wrong that wrencheth eu'ry right awry And doth her selfe her selfe oft contradict That Supposition now doth flat denie And for a foole hee 's tane and nam'd and nickt Had he a Diuell bin or they as wise As Diuels be more smooth had bin their lies Here Wisdome that baptizeth with his Sp'rit All godly wise is baptiz'd for a foole Their angers glowing heat with this despight They thinke in red-hot raging hate to coole If his loue lik'd the foole that fooles detest For vs poore fooles he lik'd that he lou'd least Olet yea let weake Humane-wisdome vaile Her Peacoks plumes and make swift wing from Fame By this Example let her courage quaile And haue no heart to hurt her Honors shame If he whom Angels praise and Heau'ns adore Endure such shame let Earth seeke fame no more He was accus'd of what not so 't were euill Glutton Wine-bibber loath'd Samaritan Dam'd sinners coapesmate one that had a diuell Soule-slaying Schismaticke nor God nor Man But Hatreds Hydra bred in Stygian Poole And to conclude all clos'd all with the Foole. O had I Art to satisfie Desire That would with Words throwe downe Mans pride to hell That would past Heauen if it could aspire And makes the Bulke with ranke ambition swell I would vpon this Ground set such a Straine As should surmount the reach of Voyce or Braine Meekenesse looke on thy selfe and blush for shame To see thy selfe thy selfe surpassed so Humilitie low low stoop thy high fame Thou art surmounted farre farre God doth kno Thou boundlesse flood of Vertues confluence Thy bounds in him haue endlesse residence Looke Glorie on thy Lord thy God behold Inuested with Contempts derided coat Yet see what constant Grace his face doth hold O earth fraile earth thy Props strong patience note And neuer lift thy selfe thy selfe aboue To loue thy selfe vnlesse this Lord to loue See see how he in midst of all Extreames The proper Place where Vertue is confi'nd Though mad Misrule his name with shame blasphemes Yet his rare patience passeth humane kind Which well be wraies this Man is more than man That loues for hate and blâ—st when Spight did ban How mute was he among so many lies Lowd lies God wot braid out by his Accusers How still meeke Lambe among so many cries Offowle mouth'd hounds his hunters and abusers In few he show'd so many Guifts of Grace That men might cleerely see God in his face God in his face for mong the sonnes of men Was not a fairer or Forme more diuine The Paragon of Beauâ—ie was he then Which in his sacred shape did brightly shine For Beautie was constraind her selfe t' excell When shee him made faire without Parralell Yet could not so great grace Grace great as God Infus'd in all his parts protect this Man From the most roguish Whip and slauish Rod But he must brooke them both doe what he can And yet he did what none but God could doe Which he they sed did like a diuell too But what will not Spight say to worke her spight Against what Good soere that thwarts her will Shee 'l call the brightest Day the darkest Night And God a Diuell Good the cause of Ill For if her Conscience once be cauteriz'd Shee is a very Fiend and worse aduiz'd For Rage is mad and cares not what shee doth And Spight enraged cares lesse what shee saies Then what 's to be expected from them both But Words and Deeds that God and Man dispraise Though God raignes ouer All by Natures right Yet is He subiect to Mans hate and spight The Heauens Sou'raigne is thus subiect made To Hels damn'd vassals vilest villanie Yet Faith and Reason discreet Soules persuade That Hell is subiect to Heau'ns Deitie Then by this short account which yet is right Hell is not halfe so bad as Hate and Spight Yet though they befarre worse than what is worst They onely fill the Iewes hard hollow hearts From whose aboundance their tongues most accurst Doe speake and so are mou'd their other parts If Hate and Spight be curst Hearts onely mouers They must be Murders spightfull-hatefull louers These spights thus past
hide his Head This Hole in Death shall doe what Life denai'd Yet shall it not long hold Him beeing dead For Heau'ns his Home Earth's but the Babylon Vpon whose Riuers bankes He still did moane Here Loue contends with Custome Loue would keepe His Corps without Custome within the Graue But Tyrant Custome swaying Loue doth weepe That Her deere LOVE shee may no longer haue And for a Fare-well Volleys forth her Voice In Grones and Sighes and Lachrimable Noise NOw Hee 's interr'd that all the World intombes But in the Center of his Court diuine Yet least Point of that Center now enwombes This Lord whose greatnesse nothing can containe Gods Peace be with Him sith Hee 's God of Peace Till by his pow'r He makes his Death decease Vnheau'n your selues ye holy Cherubins And giue attendance on your Lord in Earth Couer his Corps with your Celestiall wings From all that naturally annoyes beneath Descend sweet Angels Legioniz'd in Rankes And make your Heau'n on his Sepulchers Bankes There warble forth your Hymnes of highest praise In highest honour of your highest Lord And Lullabie asleep his Watchers Eies With secret Soule-enchanting sweet concords Whiles with Eie-blinding Beames of Glory dight He faire amounts â—o frolicke his Saints sight But tell me O thou fairest Faire of Men Where do'st thou lodge at Noone-day where do'st sleep O tell my Soule and Shee will find Thee then And as her Soule Thee found will safely keep For Thou more cleere than Springs of Eseboâ— Hast made Her with thy more cleere Blood 〈◊〉 Thy Wintry-* Woes are past Spights storms are ceas'd Now flowres of Comfort burgen eu'ry where Then rise my Loue thou canst not be diseas'd Out of the * Rockes Holes rise to mee appeare And in the Holes of Thee her refuge Rocke My Soule from from deadly Sinne and Shame vp-locke Out of this Rocke as out of Paradise Runne through the Mosse of my most feeble Flesh Vnto my Soule all soil'd with Sinne and Vice Gihons of golden streames her to refresh So may it runne O still so may it runne Till it hath made her blacke as bright as sunne O Gates of Heau'n orientall glorious Gates O Wounds no Wounds but Hau'ns of Heau'n secure Neasts of cleane Doues and Forts from fellest Fates Blessed Balme-Boxes that all sores recure O let me liuing die and dying liue In these most holy Wounds that Life doe giue O let these Wounds these Woundes indeprauate Be holy Sanctuaries for my whole Man That though sinnes sores It oft coninquinate Yet there It may be made as white as Swanne O holy Wounds Wounds holier than all Holies Still let your Bloods be Floods t'ingulph my Folies When Woes doe wound me wind me in thy Wounds Sweet Iesus that for me with Woe wast wounded When Foes by Wounds my Bodies life confound Then let my Soule in thy Wounds be surrounded There let Her rest securely till shee may By thy high Grace resume in Blisse her Clay When carnall Lust my Flesh fraile Flesh inflames Then quench the same in thy Wounds bleeding still When Furie with strong hand my Mind vnframes Then in thy Wounds reforme It to thy Will In few by this most bloody Immolation Let my by parted selfe haue whole Saluation And thou O iust commander of this All To please whose Iustice Iustice Death endur'd Thou that I hat death mad'st most patheticall Inspire me with Loue Hope and Faith assur'd That while I breath this ayre my voice may be No light vaine Ayre but voyce aduancing Thee And deepely die each obiect of my Sense In tincture of thy Sonnes all sauing Blood By which Aspect my Mindes reminiscence May ruminate the vertue of that good That is our Summum bonum and the rate Of Sinne Gods wrath and iust though heauy hate O holy God! then looke O looke on me Through the through wounded Sides of thy deere Sonne O let my Scarlet Sinnes pure purple be In his deere Blood my Sinnes Purgation For eu'n as through redde Glasse Things red do seeme So through that Blood my Workes thou good wilt deeme The kingdome of the Flesh is swaid by Sinne In Christ that kingdome thou hast crucifi'd Then let me dwell that faultlesse Flesh within Sith Sinne subdues all humane Flesh beside Then there O there let me both liue and die Sith Life by Death there liues immortally The Diuell and the World two Worlds of Strife With whom my Flesh conspires my Soule assaile Who to destroy her selfe giues them a knife And so with them conspires her selfe to spoile Then if thou flesh her not with Christ shee dies For shee in my Flesh liues none otherwise But shall I make long Furrowes on his Backe Or stil make Him but soape my Sinnes to scowre Shall He supply the Pow'r my soule doth lacke Yet shall shee still be idle with his pow're O no Lord no that 's not the way to winne But th' onely way to liue and die in sinne Then helpe me Lord to help his helping might And giue me of thy goods to grace his Grace Let not my sloth but clogge your actiue Sp'rit Although it doe the Same in Loue embrace For sith in Action Vertue doth consist Helpe me to worke together with my Christ. Had I all Faith and Mountaines could remoue And though I gaue my Body to the Fire All this were nothing if I had not Loue Then liuely Faith meere Loue doth Life-inspire Sith then without Loue Faith doth nought but die Giue me that Faith that liues by Charitie Had I of Men or Cherubins the Tongues Knew I all Secrets or all Prophesie Fed I the poore with all to me belongs All these without Loue do but liuing die And sith on Loue depends the Royall Law O let my faith Lord worke in Loue and awe Christ is a Rocke of Refuge but to those That fight thy Battailes then needs must I fight Against both Thy and My still-fighting Foes And euer flie to Him in want of might Let me rest on this Rocke but yet so rest As by my sloath He may not be opprest I long sweet God to see thy vnseene Face Then put me in this Rocks most holy Rifts That I with Moses there may see thy Grace Sith It cannot be seene but through these Clifts But if I be vnmeet thy Face to ken Shew me thy back-parts kind Lord say Amen God forbid that I should glorie sauing in the Crosse of our Lord Iesus Christ by whom the World is crucified to me and I to the World IOHN DAVIES of Hereford SONETS 1. THe ofter sinne the more griefe shewes a Saint The ofter sinne the lesse griefe notes a Fiend But oft with griefe to sinne the soule doth taint And oft to sinne with ioy the soule doth rend To sinne on Hope is sinne most full of Feare To sinue of malice is the Diuels sinne One is that Christ may greater burden beare The other that his Death might still beginne To sinne of Frailtie is a sinne but
THE HOLY ROODE OR CHRISTS CROSSE Containing CHRIST Crucified described in Speaking picture By IOHN DAVIES And who in Passion sweetely sing the same Doe glorifie their owne in Jesus NAME Crux Christi clauis Coeli LONDON Printed for N Butter To the Right Honourable well accomplished Lady ALICE Countesse of Derby my good Lady and Mistresse And to her three right Noble Daughters by Birth Nature and Education the Lady Elizabeth Countesse of Huntington the Lady Francis Egerton and the Lady Anne Wife to the truely Noble Lord Gray Lord Chandois that now is be all Comfort when so euer CROST THough long yet loe at length What was design'd To you and yours great Lady now is come To your faire Hands to mooue your fairer Minde To minde His paine that is true pleasures Summe For Siren-pleasures that but Sense allure Must with the pleasures flowing from this paine Be clens'd else those will runne to Helles impure While these to Eden faire reflow againe The Crosse true Tree of life doth fairely grow In midd'st thereof of whose fruite if you taste The Nectar'd Iuyce will so your Soule oreflow That She will be ioy-drunke with that repast To Flesh and Blood this Tree but Wormewood seemes How ere the same may be of Suger-chest But* That which quickens Flesh the Crosse esteemes To be of Comforts better then the best Vpon the Crosse as on a Touch we may Trie our Soules value whether great or small If there it washt with Water-Strong doth stay We may be sure it's most Angelicall But with a touch if from this Touch the Crosse It fleetes as if the Crosse did Crosse i'ts kinde Then doth it shew that it is full of Drosse Till in Afflictions flames it be refinde But you with Salomon haue erst suruaid Nay prou'd the value of Earthes deerest Ioyes Then hardly can your Iudgement be betray'd Vnlesse sense will not see their felt annoyes Now as you are the Roote from whence doe spring True royall Branches beautifying their Stocke To this Tree beare them and faire Branches clinge To It as Iuy to th' immortall Oke For roiall Branches to the royalst Tree Doe cleaue by kind sith there they kindly thriue Then Ladies of this Tree embracers bee Which when ye die will make you more than liue When sensuall pleasure filled hath a Cuppe Of her sweete Liquor for you sith too blame Stirre it about before yee drinke it vp With some parte of this Tree to purge the same Els like sweete Poison it will bane the Soule But highly-lowly Ladies good as great Your great Minds Powers borne great can soone controule Vaine Pleasures siege and so their Spoiles defeate For Pleasures most ore'come the weakest Minds Vnfenc'd with Vertue lying ope to Vice Whose Iudgements eury flash of Pleasure blinds Borne but to Honours shame and Preiudice Then O firme Quadruple in Vnitie Of highly borne so kindly noble Hearts I wish all Pleasures flow from Caluery Most holy Mount into your inward'st parts And stil I 'le pray without Times smallest losse The Crosse may blesse you from your Comforts Crosse. Your Honors humble Seruant and deuoted Beadsman Iohn Dauies ⧠To the Authour THine Art and Subiect both such Worth containe That thou art best requited in thy paine EDVV. HERBRET Knight ¶ TO M. IOHN DAVIES my good friend SVch men as hold intelligence with Letters And in that nice and Narrow way of Verse As oft they lend so oft they must be Debters If with the Muses they will haue commerce Seldome at Stawles me this way men rehearse To mike Inferiours nor vnto my Betters He stales his Lines that so doeth them disperee I am so free I loue not Golden-fetters And many Lines fore Writers be but Setters To them which Cheate with Papers which doth pierse Our Credits when we shew our selues Abetters To those that wrong our knowledge we rehearse Often my good Iohn and I loue thy Letters Which lend me Credit as I lend my Verse Michael Drayton Ad Libri Lectorem WRite on and haue the Palme continue still In sacred style to treate of Powres diuine Inuoke no mortall Grace for Angels will From Heauen descend to grace this Tract of Thine Changing each blacke into a golden line Write on O blessed Subiect God and Men In Heauen and Earth approoues applaud thy paines Zeale seekes not Art yet see no barren Pen To common Trifles hath enlarg'd the reines Nor suckt the borrowed blood from stranger veines Hence All distrest may to their Soules apply True sauing Comfort for the Loue that could Enforce a God for wretched Man to die Curst crost and scornd tormented bought and sold And all for such to whom such Grace he would Cannot in Iustice but extend reliefe To such as mourne their sinnes and rue his griefe Thrice happy then be Thou stird vp to spend The Guifts he giues thee to so blest an end N. Deeble To all passionate Poets YE Poets that in Passion melt to Inke VVherewith Melpomen drawes her saddest Lines So melt that so my thirstie Pen may drinke Of you made Liquid for the sadd'st Designes For were all Spirits of Poets made intire And I therewith inspir'd and had I Pens Made of Times saddest Plumes yet full of Fire All were too cold for Passion for these Threns Here is a Ground for Art and Sorrowes Soules Diuinely holpe to prooue their Descant on This VVorld of Griefe so whoorles on Passions Poles That still it Varies though it still be One Then Braines if ere yee did your Owner steed My Heart hereon through my Pen make to bleed IOHN DAVIES of Hereford THE HOLY ROODE OR CHRISTES CROSSE SONET SInce all that All is altogether vaine Vncertaine mortall momentanie vile VVhich this Sin-Biac'd Bowle the Earth containes My Penn an Heau'nly Ditty shall compile Uouchsafe sweet Christ my Paper be thy Crosse My Pen that Naile that Nail'd thine holy Hand Mine Ynke thy Blood wherewith thou didst ingrosse Th' acquittance of my Uowes infringed Band The Subiect of my Songe let be thy Glory The Burden of the same thy Glories praise The Summe whereof thy Passions sacred Story Let these be all and some of all my Laies For heau'nly Quires by nature do reioyce VVhen Art in Graces Quire reares Natures Uoice WHile that blest Body Sauiour of each Soule Whose Bodies are the Temples of his Spright Hung on the Crosse by Death DEATH to controule The Temples Vaile Stones Graues Earth Skies and Light Rent claue op't quakt and thundring waxt obscure To see LIFE dye and Griefe theire God deuoure These lifelesse Bodies wanting Soules and Sence With sense of his Soules Soule-tormenting smart Condole prouok't by Pitties violence His paine though they of paine can feele no part They sencelesse are yet paines that sence exceed Make their obdurate sencelesse Hearts to bleede And wilt thou Man Gods Image Angells Lord Emperor of Earth and all hir Brest doth beare Made so in loue by him not him affoorde Seeing Him dye for thy Loue
for Griefe to descant on And each mishap our hopes doe make infirme Though It we meete not with Suspition To force our friendship on a mortall foe Makes Folly triumph in our ouerthro But Loue that hath in Feares and Hopes no measure The more It longs her Obiect to possesse The more it doubts thereof the dire displeasure And beeing disseis'd thereof doth hope the lsse But O! this Loue is humane not diuine For Faith will not let Feare true loue decline Christ to thy longing-loue is as the Riuer Vnto the chased Hart which still he seekes And as Men thirstie mind but moysture euer So loue doth thinke on nought but what it likes If That Bee not It seekes no more to Bee But Beeing It would Be That bond or free Loue cannot liue without her Obiect long Sith shee then longing liues a dying life Who weenes her Right then to her offers wrong As doth the Husband that forsakes his Wife For in our deeds which Reason might reproue We scape vnshent if they were done in loue While loue doth lacke the oyle that makes it flame It is all Eare or Eie to heare or see Who can bewraie or where abides the same That there she may in loy or Sorrow be And listens vnto Newes with longing-heed In hope thereby to find her longingsmeed If It be good shee hopes it 's without peere If bad it be shee feares it 's worse than ill But be it good or bad shee it must heare Although the ioy or sorrow her may kill Desire doth neuer rest till that be had Which like to that Desire is good or bad Clothe him with Diamonds that quakes for cold Or cramme his purse with crownes that 's hunger-pin'd That for a freeze Gowne giue his Iewels would This all his Crownes for Crusts of coursest kin'd As each supplie supplies not each defect So nought contents Desire but his Elect. They that haue most are held most rich to be And they that haue their wish held most to haue Then as in Him is all that 's wisht of thee So Hee 's the Summe of all that thou canst craue It is the greatest gaine that can be made To get eternall good for goods that fade But rest these Thoughts which Thee of rest depriue In Paradise where he thou know'st do the est For there he said the Theefe should with him liue That day that he of life was dispossest Then when the life of Loue is dead to Griefe And liues to Ioy Ioy is dead Loues reliefe Hee for vs captiu'd our captiuitie And what is that but death the due of Sinne Which now he triumphs ore in victorie That we might still reioyce not grieue therein When Griefe is slaine it is a wrong to Ioy Our Powres in Sorrowes seruice to imploy Yet greater cause of griefe Griefe cannot giue But greater cause of ioy Ioy cannot yeeld Griefe Ioy resists and Ioy with Griefe doth striue Thus twixt these two still doubtfull is the field But Ioy at last as true Griefe doth presage Shall Victor be and no more Battell wage For this is He who though thus skarrified Tormented slaughtred and thus vilipended That is indeed the first Man deified Whom Men-of-God as-God to Men commended To Him the Prophets gaue this Testimonie That He should Liue as Man to die for Many His Skinne the Whips his Flesh Thornes made vnsound The Nailes his Nerues the cruell Speare his Heart Sharp Woes his Soule Gods wrath his Mind did wound So wounded was in all and eu'ry Part Thus his Soules-Soule was sacrifiz'd for Sinne That so our Soules might their lost glory winne His hand of Pow'r at first did figulate The Belsire of Mans most vnconstant kind And shall those Hands that Hand did figurate This Hand-almightie by their frailtie bind No no alas the Scepter 's in that Hand That doth both Heau'n and Hell of right command Hee like the glorious rare Arabian Bird Will soone result from his incinderment Which flaming Loue and Charitie had fir'd Of sole selfe-pow'r and owne arbitrement And though his Toyles be Silke-worme like his Tombe Yet shall his actiue Sp'rite his Flesh vntombe Diuinely then with Triumph Caesared He shall reblesse Thee with ten Thousand Blisses Whereby thy Soule shall aie be rauished With many millions of sweet Comforts kisses Whose Sweetes shall be so super-naturall That they perforce thy Cares shall cordial Then cheere thee sacred Virgin mourne no more The worst is past the best is now to come Thy blessed Wombe his blessed Body bore To die accurst for which He blest thy Wombe The Curse we caus'd for which He Death indures Then mourne no more but let the Griefe be Ours Fraile-Fleshes signiorizing Tyrant fell Vsurping Monarchie in her Effects Stearne Hydra-headed SINNE with Death and Hell He by his Death to free our Flesh subiects Then let Lifes Death that Lifes Death doth reliue Kill thy quicke woes and thy dead ioyes reuiue Serene thy Woe-adumbred Front sweet Saint Let Ioy transluce thy Beauties blandishment Thy Sonne feeles not for Death is Sence restraint Yet sees though dead thy liuing languishment Which well he wots though it of Loue proceed Auailes Him not nor mends His Killers Creed Thou know'st thy charge thy Master thee impos'd Sacred Euangelist His Soules deere Loue To thee her Sonne as to her Sonne dispos'd O then discharge thy charge for her behoue And like a Sonne yeeld her sad Heart reliefe With words that flow from fellow-feeling griefe Come come O Ioseph Nichodemus come Make haste post haste to take his Body downe He yet craues pitty though He yet be dumbe Yet by your ruth your loue may yet be showne Though feare of Men did make ye God forsake Yet God sith ye are Men will mercie take You did none other than his Minions did Whom of base Groomes his Grace did Minnionize Yet in his Troubles all their Heads they hid And left him for their Sinnes a Sacrifize Yet sith his Armes are spread them to embrace Ye may be sure Hee 'l take you too to grace Then sith in loue ye haue obtained leaue To take him downe that humbled so was raised Then downe retake him and withall beleeue He shall in Heau'n remounted aid be praised Vp with your Scala-Coeli to the Tree To take downe Heau'n for Heau'n of Heau'ns is Hee NOw Soule suppose thou see'st these worthy Men Laden with Linnen and with costly Gumbes Vnto the blessed-cursed Crosse to ren T'interre his Corps which DEATH now ouercomes Where beeing arriu'd the Ladders vp they reare To take Him downe with care surmounting Care See how the Infant Church whose feeble force Hath scarse the strength to lift vp Hand to Head Vnites her powers to take downe his Corse That is aliue and yet is perfect dead See with what fearefull care the Nailes they draw As if his Flesh yet felt or them He saw What prouidence they vse with Linnen large Crossing his dead Corps that to Death was Crost That so