life more fatal day Than that which took th' Aegyptian Males away No more be numbred in the Calender But in thy place let a large blot appear Or if thou must thy annual station keep Let each hour thunder and each minute weep Let as on Cain some mark be fix'd on Thee That giving life didst worse than murder me Now Friends I find your fatal Aug'ry true My woes each other like my hours pursue Hence the large sources of my tears arise And no dry minute wipes my flowing eyes No sooner had I left my childish plays The harmless pastimes of my happy days Now past a child yet still in Judgment so I study'd first what I was not to know And my first grief was to lament my fate And yet 't was seldom I had time for that My stubborn Soul a long resistance made Impatient thus by Nature to be sway'd Oft' strove to Heav'n to raise its lofty flight As oft' supprest by its gross body's weight But what it cou'd not reach its eyes pursue Then it cry'd Ah God! then shed a briny dew Twice more it wou'd repeat the pleasing noise But struggling sighs restrain'd th'impris'n'd voice Such sure were felt in Babels Monarch's breast When of his Throne and Nature dispossest But conquer'd patience yields at last to grief And thus I vent my wo and beg relief Blest Author of my life hear my complaint And free this captive from its loath'd restraint Speak but the word thy Servant shall be free Thou mad'st me thus o thus unbody me Or if thou wilt not this relief afford Grant some kind Poyson or some friendly Sword Dying I 'll hug the Author of my Death And beg his pardon with my-latest breath But to save man the guilt send some Disease Death in the most afrighting shape will please Were I to act Perillus scorching Scene I shou'd rejoyce to hear my self complain Oh Heav'n my patience is o'recome by grief Is there above no succour no relief The mercy Death is all I thee implore Lord grant it soon lest I blaspheme thy pow'r When for dispatch tormented wretches pray No cruelty's so barbarous as delay Why am I to this noisom carcase ty'd Whose stench is death in all its ghastly pride Then speak the word and I shall soon be free Thou form'dst me thus o thus unbody me Amb. in Psal 118. How does that Soul live that is inclosed in a covering of death I am in a straight between two having a desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ. Philip. 1. 23. IX â— am in a straight between two having a desire to be dissolved and to be with Christ Philip. 1. 23. HOw shall I do to fix my doubtful love Shall I remain below or soar above â—ere Earth detains me and retards my flight â—here Heav'n invites me to sublime delight â—â—av'n calls aloud and bids me haste away â—hile Earth allures and gently whispers stay â—ut hence thou sly Inchantress of my heart â—l break thy fetters and despise thy art â—aste haste kind Fate unlock my Prison door â—ere I releas'd how I aloft wou'd soar â—ee Lord my struggling arms tow'rds Thee are sent â—nd strive to grasp thee in their wide extent â—â— had I pow'r to mount above the Pole â—â— kiss the Centre of my longing Soul But thou above derid'st my weak designs And still opposest what thy word injoyns Vainly I beg what thou dost still deny And stretch my hands toreach what 's plac'd too high Oft' to my self false Joys of Thee I feign And think thou kindly com'st to break my Chain Now now I cry my Soul shall soar above But this alas was all dissembled love Sure this belief some pity might obtain Thou shou'dst at least for this have broke my Chain But if I 'm still confin'd my wings I 'll try And if I fail in high attempts I die But see He comes and as he glides along He beckons me and seems to say come on I 'll rise and flie into his lov'd embrace And snatch a kiss a thousand from his face Now now he 's near his sacred Robe I touch And I shall grasp him at the next approach But he alas has mock'd my vain design And fled these arms these slighted arms of mine For tho the distance ne're so little be It seems th' Extremes of the vast Globe to me Thus does my Love my longing tantalize And bids me follow while too fast he flies Thus sportive Love delights in little cheats Which oft' are punish'd with severe deceits The World has an Original in me To paint deluded Lovers misery And he who has his easie Fair betray'd Finds all his falshood with large Int'rest paid I ne're suspected thou cou'dst faithless be But sad experience has instructed me As a chain'd Mastiff begging to be loose With restless howlings fills the deafned house But if deny'd his teeth the Chain engage And vent on that their inoffensive rage So I complain petition to be freed And humbly prostrate beg the help I need But when you frown and my request deny Deaf as the Rocks to my repeated cry Then I against my hated Clog exclaim And on my Chain lay all the guilty blame Thus grief pretends by giving passion vent To ease the pain of my Imprisonment But I unjustly blame my Chain alone And spare the cruel hand that ty'd it on Well might the barb'rous load of Chains I bear Become a Renegado slave to wear But why this harsh ill usage Love to me Whose whole endeavour is to come to Thee But when my Soul attempts a lofty flight T is still supprest by a gross bodies weight So fare young Birds by Nature wing'd in vain Whom sportful Boys with scanty twines restrain When eager to retrieve their native air They rise a little height and flutter there But having to their utmost limits flown The more they strive to mount they fall the faste dowâ— Each tho it sleeps in its young Tyrants breast And is with Banquets from his lips carest Yet prizes more the freedom of the Wood Than all the Dainties of its dear-bought food Could tears dissolve my Chains O with what ease â—'d weep a Deluge for a quick release But tears are vain reach Lord thy hands to me And in return I 'll streach my Chains to thee Thou canst unty these stubborn bands alone Oh! do thou take them off because thou putst them on Chrysost hom 55. ad pop Antioch How long shall we be fastned here we stick to the Earth as if we should always live there we wallow in the mire God gave us bodies of earth that we should carry them to Heaven not that we should by them debase our Souls to the Earth Bring my Soul out of prison that I may praise thy name Psal. 142. 9. X. Bring my Soul out of prison that I may praise thy name Psal 142. 9. I Who did once thro th'airs wide Regions rove Free Denizon of the vast Realm above Now to a
As the chas'd Hart for the refreshing stream Cyril in Joan. lib. 3. cap. 10. It is an excellent water that allays the pernicious thirst of this world and the heat of Vice that washes off all the stains of sin that waters and improves the Earth in which our Souls inhabit and restores the mind of man that thirsts with an earnest desire to its God When shall I come and appear before the presence of God Psal. 42. 2. XII When shall I come and appear before the presence of God Psal 42. 2. WIth promis'd Joys my ears thou oft' didst fill But they are only Joys of promise still Didst thou not say thou soon wou'dst call me home Be just my Love and kindly bid me come Expecting Lovers count each hour a day And death to them 's less dreadful than delay A tedious train of months and years is gone Since first you bid me hope yet gave me none Why with delays dost thou abuse my love And fail my vain expectancies above While thus th' insulting Crowd derides my woe Where 's now your Love how well he keeps his Vow Haste then and home thy longing Lover take If not for mine yet for thy promise sake When shall I come before thy Throne and see Thy glorious Scepter kindly stretch'd to me For Thee I pine for Thee I am undone As drooping Flow'rs that want their Parent Sun O cruel tort'rer of my wounded Soul Grant me thy presence and I shall be whole O when thou Joy of all admiring eyes When shall I see thee on thy Throne of bliss As when unwelcom night begins its sway And throws its sable mantle o're the day The withering glories of the Garden fade And weeping Groves bewail their lonely shade To melancholly silence men retire And no sweet Note sounds from the feather'd Choir But hardly can the dawning morn display The welcom Ensigns of th' approaching day But the glad Gardens deck themselves anew And the cheer'd Groves shake off their heavy Dew To early homage Man himself devotes And Birds in Anthems strain their tuneful throats So without Thee I grieve I pine I mourn So triumph so revive at Thy return But Thou unkind bidst me delight my eyes With other Beauties other Rarities Sometimes thou bidst me mark the flow'ry Field What various scents and shews its Pastures yield Then to the Stars thou dost direct my sight For they from Thine derive their borrow'd light Then saist Contemplate Man in Him thou 'lt see The great resemblance of thy Love and Me. Why wou'dst thou thus deceive me with a shade A trifling Image that will quickly fade My fancy stoops not to a mortal aim Thou thou hast kindled and must quench my flame O glorious Face worthy a Pow'r Divine Where Love and Awe with equal mixture shine Triumphant Majesty of that bright Ray Where blushing Angels prostrate homage pay We in thy Works thy fix'd impressions trace Yet still but faint reflections of thy Face When this inchanted World 's compar'd with Thee It s boasted Beauty 's all deformity Thy Stars no such transcending glories own As Thine whose light exceeds all theirs in one This truth some one of them can best declare Who on the Mount thy blest spectators were Who on Thy Glories were allow'd to gaze And saw Heav'n opned in Thy wondrous Face Nor can we blame thy great Apostle's Zeal To whom thou didst that happy sight reveal That slighting all things heretofore most dear Was all for building Tabernacles there Yet he beheld Thee then within a Veil The killing Rays thou kindly didst conceal He saw a lambent flame thy Face surround Thy Temples with a dazling Glory crown'd How had he wondred at the nobler Light Whose bare Reflection was so heav'nly bright But oh That 's inaccessible to humane sight Then me oh me to that blest state receive Where I may see thee all and seeing live When will that happy day of Vision be When I shall make a near approach to Thee Be wrapt in Clouds and lost in Mystery 'T is true the Sacred Elements impart Thy virt'ual presence to my faithful heart But to my sense still unreveal'd thou art This tho a great is an imperfect bliss T' embrace a Cloud for the bright God I wish My Soul a more exalted pitch wou'd sly And view Thee in the heights of Majesty Oh! when shall I behold Thee all serene Without an envious cloudy Veil between When distant Faith shall in near Vision cease And still my Love shall with my Joy increase That happy day dear as these Eyes shall be And more than all the dearest things but Thee Aug. in Psal 42. â—f thou sindest any thing better than to behold the face of God haste thee thither Wo be to that love of thine if thou dost but imagine any thing more beautiful than He from whom all Beauty that delights thee is derived O that I had the wings of a Dove for then I would fly away and be at rest Psal. 55. 6. XIII â— that I had the wings of a Dove for then I would fly away and be at rest Psal 55. 6. THo great Creator I receive from Thee All that I am and all I hope to be â—et might this humble Clay expostulate â— wou'd complain of my defective state To Man th' ast given the boundless Regency Of three vast Realms the Ocean Earth and Sky But oh how shall this ample Pow'r be try'd When still the means to use it are deny'd Pardon my hasty censure of thy skill Who think thy mighty Work defective still Nor am I forward to correct thy Art By wishing man a Casement in his heart Whose dark recesses all the world might see That prospect justly is reserv'd for Thee But the defect I mourn is greater far His want of Wings to bear him thro the Air. Inferiour Creatures no perfection want To hinder their enjoyment of Thy grant The scaly Race have nimble Fins allow'd With which they range about their native Flood And all the feather'd Tenants of the Air Born up on tow'ring Wings expatiate there Thus ev'ry Creature finds a blest content Adapted to its proper Element But Man for the command of all design'd Is still to One injuriously confin'd While Nature often is extravagant And gives his Subjects more than what they want Some of the watry kind we know can fly And visit when they please the lofty Sky And in exchange some of the aëry brood Descend and turn bold Pirates in the Flood While still to Man Heav'n does all means deny To exercise his vain Authority Ev'n buzzing Insects with light wings are blest â—n whose small frame Heav'n has much art exprest But Man the great the noble Master-piece Wants a perfection that abounds in these Nay some the meanest of the feather'd kind For neither profit nor delight design'd Stretch their Dominions to a vast extent Nor pleas'd with Two range a third Element Sometimes on Earth they walk with stately pace And sport and
closely each other trace And meet the Sun along his annual race While the swift hours are pressing forward still And once gone by are irretrievable Thus envious Time loves on it self to prey And still thro its own Entrails eats its way So wasting Lamps by their own flames expire And kindle at themselves their Fun'ral Fire Thus it s own course the circling Year pursues Till like the Wheels on which 't is mov'd it grows This Truth the Poets weightily exprest When they made Saturn on his Off-spring feast For Time on Months and Years its Children feeds And kills with motion what its motion breeds Hours waste their Days the Days their Months consume And the rapacious Months their Years entomb Thus Years Months Days and Hours still keep their round Till all in vast Eternity are drown'd Then Lord allow my grief some little space To mourn the shortness of my hasty race I wish not time for laughter if I did My circumstances and the place forbid All I desire is time for grief and tears Let that be all th' addition to my years Which tho but short have yet been full of sin More than my time was to repent it in Yet if thou grant'st me some few minutes more They 'll make amends for my short days before Drop then my eyes you cannot flow too fast While you delay what precious time is lost 'T is done my tears have a prevailing force And Heav'n's appeas'd now stop their eager course Hieron ad Paulam Epist 21. â—hen man first sinn'd he chang'd Eternity for Mortality Ninety years or thereabouts But sin increasing by degrees Mans life was contracted to a very short space XIV Oh! that they were wise that they understood this that they would consider their latter end Deut. 32. 29. XIV Oh! that they were wise that they understood this that they would consider their latter-end Deut. 32. 29. SHame on besotted man whose baffled mind Is to all dangers but the present blind Whose thoughts are all imploy'd on mischiefs near But ills remote never fore-see or fear The Soldier is prepar'd before th'allarm The Signal giv'n 't wou'd be too late to arm The Pylot's fore-sight waits each distant blast And loses no advantage in his haste Th' industrious Hind manures and sows the Field Which he expects a plenteous Crop should yield The lab'ring Ant in Summer stores at home Provision against Age and Winter come But oh what means Mans stupid negligence That of the future has no care or sense Does he expect Eternity below A life that shall no alteration know He 's much abus'd inevitable Death Tho it delays will one day stop his breath Vain are the hopes the firmest Leagues produce The Tyrant keeps no Faith regards no Truce He does not to the Peace he makes incline To take advantage is his whole design To him Alliance is an empty name He does all Int'rests but his own disclaim Fiercely the greedy spoiler strikes at all A prey for his insatiate Jaws too small He tears ev'n tender Infants from the breast And wraps them in a Shrowd ere for the Cradle drâ— Nor Sex nor Age the grim Destroyer spares Unmov'd alike by Innocence as Years Like common Soldiers chief Commanders die And like Commanders common Soldiers lie No shining Dust appears in Craesus Urn Tho all he touch'd he seem'd to Gold to turn â—or boasts fair Rachel's face that Beauty here â—or which the Patriarch serv'd his twice-sev'n year â—nd never thought the pleasing Purchase dear Ev'n Dives here from Laz'rus is not known For now One's Purple th' Other's Rags are gone Each has no Mansion but his narrow Cell Equal in colour and alike in smell Why then shou'd man of such vain Treasure boast So difficultly gain'd so eas'ly lost For late or early all resign their breath And bend pale Victims to their Conqu'ror Death Each Sex each Age Profession and Degree Moves tow'rds this Centre of Humanity But did they not a farther Journey go And that to die were all they had to do Cou'd but their Souls dissolve as fast away As their corrupting Carcasses decay They'd covet Death to end their present cares And for prevention of their future fears They'd to the Grave as an Asylum run And court the stroke which now they wish to shuâ— But Death alas ends not their miseries The Soul 's immortal tho the Body dies Which soon as from it s Pris'n of Clay enlarg'd At Heav'ns Tribunal's sentenc'd or discharg'd Before an awful Pow'r just and severe Round whose bright head consuming flames appear The shackl'd Captive dazl'd at his sight Dejected stands and trembles with the fright While with strict scrutiny the God surveys Its heart and close impieties displays The wretch convicted does its guilt confess Nor hopes for mercy for concealment less While He th' Accuser Judge and Witness too Damns it to an Eternity of woe Where since no hope of an Appeal appears ' Twou'd fain dissolve and drown it self in tears What terrors then seize the forsaken Soul That finds no Patron for a Cause so foul â—hen it implores some Mountain to prevent â—y a kind crush its shame and punishment O wretched Soul just Judge hard Sentence too â—hat hardn'd wretch dares sin that thinks on You â—et here alas ends not the fatal grief â—here is another Death another Life Life as boundless as Eternity Death whence shall no Resurrection be â—hat Hell of Torments shall in This be found â—ith what a Heav'n of Joys shall That abound â—hat fill'd with Musick of th' Angelick Choir â—hall the blest Souls with Extasie inspire â—hile This disturb'd at ev'ry hideous yell â—hall in the Damn'd raise a new dread of Hell â—hat knows no sharp excess of cold or heat â— This the wretches always freeze or sweat â—here reign Eternal Rest and soft Repose â—ere painful toil no end or measure knows â—hat void of grief does nought afflictive see â—his still disturb'd from trouble's never free O happy Life O vast unequall'd Bliss O Death accurs'd O endless Miseries Either to That or This we daily bend All our endeavours have no other end Be wise then Man nor let thy care be vain To shun the Mis'ry and the Bliss obtain Give Heav'n thy Heart if thou its Crown wou'dâ— gain Aug. Soliloq cap. 3. What more lamentable and more dreadful can be thought of than that terrible Sentence Go what more delightful than that pleasing Invitation Come They are two words of which nothing can be heard more affrighting than the One nothing more rejoycing than the Other My life is waxen old with heaviness and my years with mourning Psal. 31. 11 XV. My life is waxen old with heaviness and my years with mourning Psal 31. 11. WHat lowring Star rul'd my unhappy Birth And banish'd thence all days of ease and mirth â—hile expectation does delude my mind â—eas'd with vain hope some smiling hour to find â—t still that smiling hour forbears to come â—d sends a row of Mourners
Their wandring paths forbid till try'd to know Maeander's stream a streighter motion steers Tho with himself the wand'rer interferes Not the sictitious Labyrinth of old Did in more dubious paths its guests infold Here greater difficulties stay my feeâ— And on each road I thwarting dangers meet Nor I the diff'rent windings only fear In which the Artist's skill did most appear But more to heighten and increase my dread Darkness involves each gloomy step I tread No friendly tracks my wandring footsteps guidâ— Nor previous feet th'untrodden ground have try'â— And tho lest on some fatal Rock I stray With out-stretch'd arms I grope my dusky way Yet dare I not ev'n with their help proceed But night and horror stop my trembling feet Like a strange Trav'ller by the Sun forsook And in a road unknown by night o'retook In whose lone paths no neighb'ring Swains reside No friendly Star appears to be his guide No sign or track by human footsteps worn But solitary all and all forlorn He knows not but each blindfold step he tread To some wild Desart or fierce River leads Then his exalted voice does loudly strain In hope of answer from some neighb'ring Swain Still still he calls but still alas in vain Only faint Ecchoes answer him again Oh! who will help a wretch thus gone astray What friendly Cynosure direct my way A signal Cloud conducted Israels flight By day their cov'ring and their guide by night The Eastern-Kings found Bethlem too from far Led by the shining conduct of a Star Nor cou'd they in their tedious journey err Who had so bright a fellow-traveller Be thou no less propitious Lord to me Since all my bus'ness is to worship Thee See how the wandring Croud mistake their way And tost about by their own error stray This tumbles headlong from an unseen Hill That lights on a blind path and wanders still This with more haste than speed goes stumbling on That moves no faster than a Snail might run While to and fro another hasts in vain No sooner in the right than out again Here one walks on alone whose boasted skill â—nvites another to attend him still Till among Thorns or miry Pools they tread This by his guide That by himself misled Here one in a perpetual Circle moves While there another in a Lab'rinth roves And when he thinks his weary ramble done He finds alas he has but just begun Thus still the wandring Multitude does stray Scarce one of thousands keeps or finds the way Oh! that my paths were all chalk'd out by Thâ—â— From the deceits of baneful error free Till all my motion like a Dart's became Swift as its flight unerring as its aim That where thy Laws require me to obey I may not loiter nor mistake the way Then be Thou Lord the Bowe thy Law the White And I the Arrow destin'd for the flight And when thou' rt pleas'd to shew thy greatest skill Let Me dear God be thy choice Arrow still Aug Soliloq cap. 4. O Lord who art the Light the Way the Truth and the Life in whom there is no Darkness Error Vanity nor Death Say the word O Lord let there be Light that I may see the Light and shun the Darkness that I may find the right way and avoid the wrong that I may follow Truth and fly from Vanity that I may obtain Life and escape Death O hold thou up my goings in thy paths that my footsteps slipp not Psal. 17. 5. III. O hold thou up my goings in thy paths that my footsteps slip not Psal 17. 5. WHat will my faithless feet deceive me more And make false steps upon the even floor Thou who from Heav'n my motion dost approve Grant me such strength that I may firmly move The Eagles teach their unfledg'd young to fly Practis'd in towring tow'rd the lofty Sky â—ill the apt brood by bold example led â—erform the daring flight they us'd to dread â—hus Boys when first th' unusual stream they try With spungy Cork their weighty bodies buoy â—ill more improv'd they their first help disown â—mbitious now t' attempt the flood alone And thus by practice such perfection gain To sport and wanton safely in the Main Thou who from Heav'n observ'st our steps beloâ— See by what arts thy Servant learns to go While all my weight on this slight Engine 's laid I move the Wheels that do my motion aid Thus feeble age supported by a Cane Is tir'd with that on which 't is forc'd to lean Mistake not Lord th'ambiguous terms I use For of no failure I my feet accuse I can perceive no imperfection there No rocky ways or thorny roads they fear The weakness of my mind disturbs me most Whose languid feet have all their motion lost All its affections lame and bedrid are Those feet alas which shou'd its motion steer When it shou'd move in Virtues easie road Alas 't is tir'd as soon as got abroad Sometimes but rarely it renews the race And eagerly moves on a Jehu 's pace But weary of its journey scarce begun Its boasted flame is all extinct as soon As a faint Lamp by the rude North-wind blown Yet lest I shou'd too much my sloth betray I force my steps and make some little way But then am cautious not to be expos'd Lest I be thought too plentifully dos'd My reeling steps move an indented pace As 't were a Cripple hopping o're a race I will I won't I burn all in a breath And that 's scarce out e're I 'm as cold as death And then impatient at my fruitless pain Tir'd in the mid-way I go back again Yet cannot then recover my first place The pleasant seat whence I began my race Tost like a Ship on the tempestuous waves Which neither help of Sails nor rowing saves While with new vain attempts I try again And would repair the loss I did sustain The small success too manifestly proves My fruitless labor in a circle moves Thus Slaves condemn'd to ply a toilsom Mill Repeat the same returning motion still Tho still the restless Engine 's hurry'd round They by its haste gain not one foot of ground What shall I do a stranger to the race Whose lazy feet scarce move an Asses pace Heav'n lies remote from this mean Globe below None but the swift and strong can thither go What then shall this my slow-wheel'd Chariot do Thou Lord mov'st nimbly o're the rugged way Thy Gyant-feet are balk'd by no delay Thou with a step dost East and West divide And o're the world like a Colossus stride But with a Tortoice-motion I proceed Or rather like the Crab am retrograde How can I then hope to that Goal to run Which 't is the bus'ness of my life to shun But do thou Lord my trembling feet sustain Then I the Race and the Reward shall gain Amb. de fuga saeculi cap. 1. â—ho among so many troubles of the body among so many allurements of the world can keep a safe and unerring