and suffers not A passenger to enter Without thy Masters ticket got Thou mayst not touch her Center But come my soule let me advise What needst thou to implore The Saints for ayde I know where lies For thee a private doore Dost not remember since the pride Of base perfidious men Did thrust thy Master through the side We rt not thou wounded then When Iustice is so sterne that thou Vnto a straight art driven Come hearke and I will tell thee now Creepe through that wound to heaven Sanctificat O My head alas my bones O my wounded joynts doe smart Flesh ere while as hard as stones Now it akes in every part Lord 't is thy Art All thy Iudgements could not scare Me nor make my soule to fly Now one angry looke can reare Me and make me pensive lye In misery Lord there where I tooke my rise There did I begin to reele Surfetted in Paradise And there I got a bruised heele Which now I feele Surely my disease was great Sicke and yet I felt no paine Hungry yet I could not eate Sore yet could I not complaine Yet all was gaine For good God thy care was such That thou gavest me much reliefe Yea thou lendedst me a Crutch And didst make me know my griefe Lord thou art chiefe Thou hast made the rocke to weepe And my stony heart to groane Thou hast rais'd me from my sleepe And dost smile to heare my tone And lov'st my mone But what need'st thou lend a Crutch Thou canst make me perfect whole Thou canst heale me with a touch By this thou know'st a woman stole Cure for her dole When leave I this halting pace When shall I most perfect be When thou shalt my glistring face In the land of glory see Lord perfect me A Meditation on a Mans shadow WHen as the Sunne flings downe his richest rayes And with his shining beames adornes my wayes See how my shadow trackes me where I goe I stop that stops I walke and that doth so I runne with winged flight and still I spye My waiting shadow runne as fast as I. But when a sable cloud doth disaray The Sunne and robs me of my smiling day My shadow leaves me helpelesse all alone And when I most neede comfort I have none Iust so it is let him that hath the hight Of outward pompe expect a parasite If thou art great thy honours will draw nigh These are the shadowes to prosperity O how the worldlings make pursuite to thee With cap in hand and with a bended knee But if disastrous fate should come betwixt Thee and thy Sunne thy splendor's all eclipst Thy friends forsake thee and thy shadow 's gone And thou poore sunne-lesse thou art left alone This is thy Soules estate the worldly gaine And greatest pompe in stormy times are vaine They are but shadowes when distresse comes nigh They are as nothing to a faithfull eye Yet here 's my comfort Lord if I can see My shadow I must needes a substance be O let me not with worldly shadowes clogge My selfe grant me more wit then Esops dogge A Meditation on Childrens rashnesse WHen Mothers are desirous for to play The wantons with their babes and shew the way To finde their feete to give their brats content They wagge their sporting fingers and present A penny in the forehead or some pap To win the Children to the Mothers lap How soone will they their little grissels stretch And runne apace aspiring for to fetch This petty object never caring though Their way be full of stumbling blockes below Thou art that Mother Lord thou usest charmes And still art dandling Christ within thine armes Presents most glorious objects to our eyes And shewes us where thy choisest mercies lies Why then are we so backward why so slow Or why so loth into thy armes to goe Small molehils seeme as mountaines in our way And every light affliction makes us stay Why should we stop at petty strawes below Make us thy Children Lord we shant doe so A Meditation on a good Father having a bad Sonne QVerkus of late was minded to dispute Of this A tree that 's good brings forth good fruite Hence he concludes such parents that have bin Converted bring forth children void of sinne Peace Querkus peace and hold thy tongue for shame Dost not perceive that thy conclusion's lame May not a graine that 's free from chaffe and cleare Cast in the ground bring forth a chaffy eare A Meditation on a Weathercocke SEe how the trembling Weathercocke can find Noe setled place but turnes with every wind If blustring Zephyr blowes and gives a checke How soon's this cocke made pliant to his becke If Boreas gets the day t will change its side And turne inspite of bragging Zephyrs pride Thus temporizers turne at every puffe And yet forsooth they thinke they 're good enough If stand they stand if he that seemes to be The greatest turne they turne as fast as he I wonder at such wav'ring feathers did I So often turne t' would make me wondrous giddy Lord let that wind that blowes upon thy flocke Turne me and make me Lord thy weather cocke A Meditation on Cockfighting SEe how those angry creatures disagree Whilst the spectators sit and laugh to see Doe not two neighbours often doe the same Whilst that the Lawyers laugh to see the game A Meditation on an Echo and a Picture SEe how Apelles with his curious art Pourtraies the picture out in every part If he can give 't a voyce no doubt he can Compleatly make the shape a living man Surely his worke would to his praise redound Could he but give the shape he made a sound What wants the Echo of a living creature But Shape and what but voice this comely feature Yet both can't meete together God alone Will have this secret Art to be his owne A Meditation on Noahs Dove VVHen God the floods from lands did undivide And made the skye aspiring mountaines hide When heaven raind seas and fountaines were unbound And all mankind except eight soules were drownd Then did Ioves Pilot Noah make an Arke And thrust this little world into a barke Yea then he sent a Dove to range about The Floods to answer his uncertaine doubt O how shee wanders up and downe the Seas Fluttring her weary wings but findes no ease Shee sees no food no resting place no parke But soone returnes into her wished Arke Observe how tender Noah full of Love Opens the window to this weary Dove Puts forth his hands to meete her takes her in But by and by shee flutters out agin Shee findes an Olive leafe and that shee brings Betweene her bill hov'ring her tyred wings Vpon the Arke still Noah is the same Le ts in his wandring Dove that 's now made tame With restlesse flight once more shee gets away And now shee spies the earth that lately lay Sok'd in the impartiall deluge in her pride Adornd with dainty hearbes on every side When
anger 's banisht cleane away Sterne justice now hath not a word to say And now the Fathers anger being done Double imbraces entertaine the Sonne As when a tender mother sometime beates Her wanton boy for his unruly feates Shee wipes his blubberd face and by and by Presents a thousand gugoyes to his eye Shee angry with her selfe beginnes to seeke His former love teares trickling downe her cheeke Quickly forgetting what was done amisse Ending her anger in a lovely kisse Doubtlesse her fondling burnes the rod and then Come peace my babe kisse and be friends agen Iust so when God inflicted on his Sonne His bittrest wrath the anger being done O then how soone he doubled his renowne Adorn'd his Temple with a richer Crowne Angry with those that would not heare his moane Ready to fling grim vengeance from his throne And chide with mercy shee that once did runne To hide her selfe from this his dying Sonne And for this fact would surely overthrow The fabricke did not Iustice hold the blow Thus heaven was friends againe but sordid man Poore mortall dust whose dayes are but a span Doth strive against his God like dogges that storme And barke and brawle and fome at Phoebes horne Ah Lord why are they so extreame to thee What is the cause thou madst their blindmen see Or why didst thou their fury thus inrage Because thou didst revive their dead mens age Me thinkes t is strange good God thou shouldst enflame Their anger by restoring legges too lame How is it Lord thou sowedst glorious seedes And loe a harvest all compact of weedes Thou gavest them life and spentst thy dearest breath For them and now thou art repaid with death What griefe was ere like thine would not thy mone Quickly dissolve an adamantine stone Wold not those sighs which could not peirce their eares Have turnd a rocke into a sea of teares Would not those wrongs thou bor'st without reliefe Make every cave to echo out thy griefe For greedy Lions are more kind then men They entertaind thy limbe within their denne Forget their wonted humours and became As carefull shepherdes to thy tender Lambe The croking raven shee whose natures wilde Became a tender nurse unto thy Childe And to obey thy voice the stony rocke Became a springing fountaiue to thy flocke Yea rather then thy babes shall live in thrall The very sea it selfe provides a wall The flames forget their force through thy constraint Lose heate and know not how to burne a Saint Yea when thy souldiers wanted day to fight The Sun stood still and lent them longer light When boistrous seas did shew their lusty prancks Scorning to be imprison'd in their banckes And with their billowes vaulted up so high As if they meant to scale the starry sky And boundlesse Boreas from his frozen Cave Rusht out and proudly challeng'd every wave One nod of thine did quell those seas agen And sent proud Boreas to his sullen denne Thus thou the senselesse creatures oft did'st checke And mad'st the proudest pliant to thy becke For devils trembled and that breath of thine Made them seeke shelter in a heard of swine They knew thy greatnesse and confest thy name Hell sent forth Heraulds to divulge thy fame But man Lord what 's he made of stupid soule Is now more greedy then the raping foule Harder then flint his nature is so grimme That questionlesse the Lyon chang'd with him Hotter then flame more boystrous then the winde More fierce then waves and hels not more unkinde Yet thou O matchlesse love didst undergoe An undeserved curse to save thy foe Yea guiltlesse thou because thou would'st suffice For guilty man becom'st a Sacrifice Thou Grand Physitian for thy patients good Didst mixe thy Physicke with thy dearest blood Man from the sweetest flower did sucke his griefe But thou from venome didst extract reliefe From pleasures limbecke man distild his paine Thou out of sorrow pleasure drawd againe Sweete Eden was the garden where there grew Such sugred flowers yet there our poyson blew Sad Gethseman the arbour where was pluckt Though bitter herbes yet thence was hony suckt So have I seene the busie Bee to feed Extracting honey from the sowrest weed Whilst Spiders wandring through a pleasant bowre Sucke deadly poyson from the sweetest flower Thus thus sweete Christ thy sicknesse was our health Thy death our life thy poverty our wealth Thy griefe our mirth our freedome was thy thrall Thus thou by being conquerd conquerest all CANT 8. 7. Much water cannot quench love neither can the floods drowne it O How my heart is ravisht thoughts aspire To thinke on thee my Christ my zeales on fire What shall I doe my love me thinkes mine eyes Behold thee still yet still I Tantalize Ten thousand lets stand arm'd and all agree Conspiring how to part my love and me Presumption like Olympus scales the skye A mountaine for to part my Love and I. Despaire presents a gulfe a greedy grave Much like the jawes of the infernall Cave But what of this though hils are nere so high Whose sunne-confronting tops upbraide the skye I le trample o're and make them know t is meete Their proudest heads should stoope and kisse my feete I le stride o're cares deeper then Neptunes well Whose threatning jawes doe yawne as wide as hell Although the sea boyles in her angry tides And watry mountaines knocke at Heavens sides Though every puffe of Neptunes angry breath Should raise a wave and every wave a death I le scorne his threates should stop my course or quell My pace though every death presents a hell Yea I le adventure through those swelling stormes Whose billowes seemes to quench great Phoebes hornes Mountaines shall be as molehilles every wave Tost in the fretfull region shall outbrave No more then streames that shew their wanton pranckes Gliding along by Thames his petty banckes But grant that seas should swell and tossing tides With stormes should crush my waving vessels sides Suppose for footemen mountaines are too steepe Each hill too high and every cave too deepe Suppose all earth conspire to stop care I My faith will lend me wings and then I le flye O how I le laugh to see that mounting clay O how I le smile at that that stopt my way O how I laugh to see the Ocean straine Her banckes for to oppose and all in vaine And can you blame me when I 'me once above I le care for none for none but thou my Love Thou art my path I shall not goe awry My sight shall never faile thou art my eye Thou art my clothing I shan't naked be I am no bondman thou hast made me free I am not pin'd with sickenesse thou art health I am no whit impoverisht thou art wealth Mans naturall infirmity VVHat meanes my God why dost present to me Such glorious objects can a blind man see Why dost thou call why dost thou becken so Wouldst have me come Lord can a Cripple go Or why
with the tide To mend her pace but by and by the wind The fretfull Seas the heav'ns and all combin'd Against this bragging barke O how they fling Her corkey sides to heaven and then they bring Her backe shee that ere while did sayle so brave Cutting the floods now 's tost with every wave Iust so the waving world gives joy and sorrow This day a Croesus and a Iob to morrow How often have I seene the miser blesse Himselfe in wealth and count it for no lesse Then his adored God straight comes a frowne Flying from unhappy fate and whirleth downe Him and his heapes of gold and all that prize Is lost which he but now did Idolize But grant the world as never 't will to be A thing most sure most full of constancy What is thy wealth unlesse thy God doth blesse Thy store and turne it to a happinesse What though thy Table be compleatly spread With farre-fetcht dainties and the purest bread That fruitfull earth can yeeld all this may bee If thou no stomacke hast what 's all to thee What though thy habitation should excell In beauty and were Edens parallel Thou being pesterd with some dire disease How can thy stately dwelling give thee ease Thy joyes will turne thy griefe thy freedome thrall Vnlesse thy God above doth sweeten all When thou poore soule liest ready to depart And hear'st thy Conscience snarling at thine heart Though heapes of gold should in thy coffers lye And all thy worthlesse friends stand whining by 'T is none 't is none of these can give thee health But thou must languish in the midst of wealth Then cease thou mad man and pursue no more The world and know shee 's but a painted whore Thou catchest shadowes labourst in thy dreames And thirst's amongst th' imaginary streames A Meditation on a meane LOrd in excesse I see there often lies Great dangers and in wants great miseries Send me a meane doe thou my wayes preserve For I may surfet Lord as well as starve On Sathans tempting Eve ARt thou turn'd Fencer Sathan prethee say Surely thou art not active at thy play Challenge a Woman fie thou art to blame Suppoâ—e thou getst the day thou getst no fame But prethee speake hast any cause to prate Thou bruis'd her heele what though shee broke thy pate On a Spunge THe Spunge it selfe drinkes water till it swell it But never empties till some strength expell it Lord of our selves we 're apt to soake in sinne But thou art faine to squeeze it out agin On Cain and Abels offerings ARt angry Cain what doe thy thoughts repine Is Abels offring better tooke then thine Didst not thou bring thy God a lovely prize And crowne his Altar with a sacrifice Art not thou elder did not thy offring too Come from thy God what more could Abell doe I le tell thee Cain how Abel got the start He with his offring offered up his heart On an Apprentices Boxe THe Prentise after all his yearely paines Filleth his small mouth'd box with Christmas gaines Yet though he fill his box unto the brim Vnlesse he breake it up what 's all to him A miser's such a Boxe that 's nothing worth Till death doth breake it up then all comes forth Convert good God or strike with some disease Breake up such small mouth'd boxes Lord as these On Eves Apple EVE for thy fruite thou gav'st too deare a price What for an Apple give a Paradise If now a dayes of fruite such gaines were made A Costermonger were a devillish trade On a faire house having ill passage to it A House to which the builders did impart The full perfection of their curious art Most bravely furnisht in whose roomes did lye Footeclothes of Velvet and of tapestry I wondred at as who could not but doe it To see so rough so hard a passage to it So Lord I know thy heaven 's a glorious place Wherein the beauty of thy glistring face Inlightens all thou in the wals dost fixe The Iasper and the purest sardonyx Thy gates are pearles and every dore beset With Saphires Emeralds and the Chrysolet Each Subject weares a crowne the which he brings And flings it downe to thee the King of Kings But why 's the way so thorny t is great pitty The passage is no wider to thy Citty Poore Daniel through his den and Shadrake's driven With his associates through the fire to Heaven But yet we can't complaine we may recall The time to minde when there was none at all T' was Christ that made this way and shall we be Who are his Servants farre more nice then he No I le adventure too nay I le get in I le tracke my Captaine thorow thicke and thin FINIS The Chaos
did not dare Surpasse their stations nay nor once impaire Their bounds he quickly queld their lusty prankes And causd the waves to crouch within their bankes When he had conquerd this unruly stran Within two dayes he crownes Leviathan King of the liquid region and doth give Ten thousand thousand more with him to live Then fruitfull earth which is the Ocean barres Appeares and heavens bespangled all with starres The Sunne begins his beauty to present And proudly danceth up the Orient He nor his horses can no longer sleepe But gallop from the orientall deepe He rid so fast that in few houres was spide All bravely wrapt in his meridian pride But when he clamber'd to the highest brinke He view'd the fabricke then began to sinke And all the way as hee did homewards goe He laughed to see so brave a frame below Still whipping on his Iades untill his head Was safely laid into his Westerne bed Silver Lucina as yet did not enter But lay immured within the reeking center Whilst he had mounted on his flaming seate And viewd a glorious orbe wondrous compleate With that the purple Lady straight prepares Attended with ten thousand thousand starres Shee clambers up in this her rich aray And viewes the goodly building all the way Sweete smiles shee cast from her admiring eye Whilst all her little babes stood twinkling by Playing the wantons by their mothers side As if they were inamour'd with the pride Of such a Fabricke to expresse their mirth Some shot from heaven as though they 'd live on Earth This done sweete Phoebe soone beganne to drop Her borrowed beames into her brothers lap And ever since to see this glorious sight One laughes at day the other smiles at night And can you blame them earth is spread with bowres And trees and proudly deckt with sundry flowers Shee that ere while in dunghill Chaos lay Is now with Vi'lets purp'ld every day And damaskt all with Roses yea shee s clad With sweeter herbes then ever Ceres had Her fruitfull wombe brings forth most dainty cates And lovely fruites these are her comely brattes No rusticke Plowman now doth take the paines To peirce her entrailes or to squeeze her veines But heaven and shee unites they scorne to see A bastard weede disgrace their pedigree Shee 's overspread with pinkes and Daffadillies Carnations Roses and the whitest Lilies Those fondlings lolling in her armes doe lye Shaking their heads and in her bosome dye These in their mothers sides doe take their rest Till they doe drop their leaves into her brest And now the little birds doe every day Sit singing in the boughs and chirpe and play The Phesant and the Partridge slowly flye Vndaunted even before the Faulcons eye Now comes Behemoth with his Lordly gate Gazing as if he stood admiring at So rich a frame first having fixt his sight On glorious earth he alwayes tooke delight In viewing that and would not looke on high Nay all the glorious spangles of the skye Could not entice him ever from his birth He spent his time in looking on the earth All other beasts their greedy eyes did fling On lovely earth as did their crowned King Yea now the Lion with the Lambe did goe And knew not whether blood were sweete or no The little Kids to shew their wanton pride Came dancing by the loving Tigers side The Hare being minded with the Hounds to play Would give a sporting touch and so away And then returne being willing to be found And take his turne to chace the wanton Hound The busie Mice sat sporting all the day Meane while the Cat did smile to see them play The Foxe stands still to see the Geese asleepe The harmelesse Wolfe now grazeth with the Sheepe Here was no raping but all beasts did lye As link'd in one O Heavenly Sympathy The goodly Pastures springing from the Clay Did wooe their mouthes to banquet all the way Was spread with dainty herbes and as they found Occasion they would oft salute the ground Those uncontrouled creatures then begunne To sport and all lay basking in the Sunne No creature was their Lord gainesaid by none As if that Heaven and earth were all their owne Thus when this mighty builder did inrobe Himselfe with night and Chaos to a globe Convert of this he tooke a serious view And did as t were create it all anew He made a little Orbe cald man the same Onely compacted in a lesser frame For what is all this all that man in one Doth not enjoy A man that 's onely blowne With heavens breath a man that doth present Life Spirit sense and every element Yea in this little world great Iove did place His glorious Image and this miry face Was heavens picture t was this face alone That still lookt up to his Creators throne Then God did make a place to be admir'd Surely t was heaven it selfe had then conspir'd To finde it out a garden sweetly blowne With pleasant fruite and man's exempt from none Of all these plants except a middle tree And what can one among a thousand bee O glorious place that God doth now provide For durty clay the earth in all her pride He tramples on and heav'n that 's so beset With spangles and each glistring Chrysolet Doth give attendance yea it serves to be A covering for his head his Canopie Thus man of heaven and earth is all possest This span of durt is Lord of all the rest Me think's I see how all the Creatures bring Their severall Congies to their new made King Behemoth which ere while did range about Vncheckt and tossing up his bony snowt Feard none now having cast his rowling eyes Vpon his Lord see how he crouching lyes Behind a sheltring bush he seemes to be Imploring aide of every spreading tree The Lyon which ere while was in his pride Squinting by chance his gogle-eyes aside Espies his King he dares not stay for haste Spues out his meate halfe chaw'd and will not taste Of his intended food but sneakes away Counting his life to be his chiefest prey It was but now the raven was espide Sporting her wings upon the Tigars hide But now O how her feather'd say les doe soare As if shee vowd to touch the earth no more See how the Goates doe clamber to the top Of highest mountaines and the Conies drop Into their holes see how the Roebucke flings himselfe almost exchanging legs for wings Why what 's the matter that ye haste away Ye that ere while were sporting all the day Tell me yee Creatures say what fearefull sight Hath put you to this unexpected flight Speake speake thou giddy lambe wer 't not thou spide At play but now why then dost skip aside What is it man that frights you can his face Stretch out your legs unto their swiftest pace Can one looke daunt you all what neede this bee Are ye not made of Clay as well as hee Have ye not one Creator are ye not His elder Brothers
and the first begot Why start ye then is it not strange to see One weake-one make ten thousand strong ones flee But ah I neede not aske I know it now You spied your makers image in his brow T' was even so indeed no time to stay Your Lord was comming fit he should have way And thus these Creatures dares not come in sight Surely t' was heavens Idea causd the fright Now see how flattering earth doth strive alone To please this Lord each tree presents a done See how the fruite hangs with a comely grace And wooes his hands to rent them from their place O how they bow and would not have him bring His hands to them they bend unto their King But if by chance he will not plucke and taste They breake the boughes and so for griefe they waste See how the little pinkes when they espie Their Lord doe Curtsy as he passeth by The wanton Dazies shake their leavy heads The purple Vilets startle from their beds The Primrose sweete and every flowre that growes Bestrowes his way with odours as he goes Thus did the herbes the trees the pleasant flowres Welcome their Lord into his Eden bowres But all this while the earth with all her pride Shee nor her store could not aford a bride Fitting for man no no to end the strife The man himselfe must yeeld himselfe a wife It was not meete for him to be alone Then did our one-in-three our three-in-one Cast him into a sleepe and did divide His ribbes and brought a woman from his side When this was done the devill did entice The wife from Gods unto his Paradice See how the lying serpent maketh choise Of the forbidden tree a tacite voice It hath indeede most lovely to the eye Presents it to her and shee by and by Forsooth must taste and so must Adam too What cannot women by entreaties doe God he intends a wife for mans reliefe But oftentimes shee prooves the greatest griefe Was there but one forbid and must shee bee So base a wretch to taste of such a tree Must Adam too Ah see how shee pluckes downe Her husbands glory and kickes off his crowne O see how angry God himselfe comes downe To curse these wretches heaven begins to frowne Alas poore naked soules me thinkes I see Transformed Adam crouch behind a tree T' is time to runne when once God doth reject him T is not his leavy armour can protect him Heaven and hell with all the spight they can Strive for revenge against this monster man O how the Creatures frowne and bend their brow As if they all conspir'd and tooke a vow Against this caytive hearke how earth complaines That shee by man is barrd of mod'rate raines Shee s now become a strumpet fruitfull seedes And dainty flowers are turn'd to bastard weedes Disrob'd of all her glory lost her pride The creatures now lie starving by her side O how shee sighes and sends up hideous cryes To see poore cattell fall before her eyes For want of foode they rip their mothers wombe For meate but finding none doe makt their tombe Harke how the buls and angry Lyons roare To heaven and tell how man decreast their store Heare how the little Lambes which yesterday Did honour to their King and gave him way O how they begge for vengeance to come downe On man and dispossesse him of his Crowne See see what raping and what cruell thrall Is us'd t is man alone that murders all The Lion mild ere while for want of foode Doth fill his paunch with unaccustom'd blood The wolfe which lately was more apt to keepe The tender lambes now prosecutes the sheepe Surely the ravenous beasts did not they spye The glimpse of heaven within mans purblind eye Would straight devoure him did not mercy now Come downe and smooth her fathers wrinkled brow The earth would scorne to beare him but divide Her selfe and make this Dathan sincke in pride The earth would not indure the plough to passe Into her iron sides the heavens as brasse Would soone become and both doe what they can To starve up this deformed monster man See how this Caytife causeth discontent And raiseth discord in each element How often have I seene the raging fire Vnto the top of highest Towres aspire And clamber mighty buildings t is unbound Surely t' would burne the fabricke to the ground Did not our God looke from his mercy seat And make the watry sister quell the heate How is the ayre poysned with misty fogges And churlish vapours onely such that clogs The Corps with deadly humours such that brings The Pestilence yea such that quickely flings Loathsome diseases alwayes tipt with death Did not Iove fanne it with his mighty breath Harke how the impatient seas beginne to thunder As if they 'd rent their prison walls in sunder See how the mounting waves doe swiftly flye To heaven as if they meant to tell the skye How basely man hath dealt O how they roare Beating their foming waves against the shore Chiding their sister earth that dares to beare So base a wretch see how the waves doe teare Her bowels and with all the spight they can Strive for to drowne this wretched Caytife man CHRISTS BIRTH AND PASSION O Thou most Sacred Dove that I may write Thy praises drop thou from thy soaring flight A quill come aide my muse for shee intends To sing such love no mortall comprehends Guide thou her stamring tongue and let her be Strongly protected in her infancy Then shee 'll tell how the King of Kings by birth Forsooke his throne to live on dunghill earth Then shee 'le declare how great creating Iove Whose starre-bepaved pallace is above All whose attendance is a glorious troope Of glitt'ring cherubs unto whom doe stoope Each glorious Angell flinging himselfe downe Presenting at his feete his pearely crowne To be his pallace heaven itself 's not meete And dunghill earth 's too little for his feete Yet this great King-creating King did slide To earth and laid his Diadem aside Exchanging it for thornes and did untire His glorious selfe and clad himselfe in mire At whose appearance singing Angels shot Like starres from heaven newes nere to be forgot Yea winged Cherubs from the highest came As Heavens Heralds to divulge his fame All heaven did obey sance but for earth Vngratefull soile unworthy of the birth Of such a babe t was readier to intombe The dying Lord then to afford a roome Proud Salem was too high to entertaine Poore Maries babe t was kept for Herods traine And Rome that seavenhild Citty was too greate To lodge this Child t is Caesars royall seate T' is Bethlem little Bethlem must suffice To lighten Iosephs Consorts weary thighes And that 's almost too proud to lodge him in No private house but even a vulgar Inne And tha 're not harbourd in the choisest roomes No not so well as with the common groomes But this ah most unworthy worthy guests Is thrust and gladly
too among the beasts He that before was wont to take his rest All coverd in his fathers silken breast Is now constrained to lay his worthy head Vpon an undeserved strawy bed He that was wont to heare the pleasant tones Of sweete-voyc'd Angels now the saddest grones Of dolefull Mary mixt with brinish teares These onely these are harbour'd in his eares The Babe is scarcely borne but sought to dye As yet not learn'd to goe but forc'd to flye And to avoid the Tetrarchs furious Curse Hard hearted Egypt's now become a Nurse He that can make both Heaven and earth to dread Loe patiently takes all and hides his head Yet hee 'le returne no not the bitter wrongs Nor spightfull usage nor the smarting thongs Nor sharpest scourges no nor blackest hell Can quench the boundlesse love nor yet expell His strong affections let the traitors set A thorny crowne on 's head and also wet His glorious face with spittle and deride And scourge till blood falls trickling downe his side Nay though he be constrain'd to leave his breath And 's dying soule is heavy unto death He can't but smile upon his bitter foe And love the traitors whe're they will or no Yet see how sordid man repayeth all His kindnesse with an undeserved thrall Whil'st he sad soule lay prostrate all alone Fast fixing both his eyes at heavens throne And sending up such sighes as though he 'd make The weakned vaults of heaven and earth to shake His sweate dropt downe like dew and as he stood He staind Mount Olives with his Crimson blood Whilst all his sad Disciples drowsy lye Scarce able to hold up a sluggish eye Now he 's betraid by Iudas he that bore The bagge and was intrusted with the store He that did scorne the traitors name and cry Who shall betray thee Lord Lord speake is 't I Yet now an abject Christ becomes to be And thirty pence is valu'd more then he The bloody steward with a treacherous kisse Forsooke his Master and eternall blisse And sould the body of a Lord so good To souldiers such as thirsted after blood And then for feare the Innocent should passe Vntoucht was straight accused by Caiaphas Condemn'd by Pontius Pilate to expell The guilt he washt his hands and all was well O see what force weake water had to quench His sparkling Conscience and his flaming sence Alas not Nilus no nor Iordans flood Can cleanse the staines of such a Crimson blood No t is the streames of a repenting eye T is onely this takes out a scarlet dye Thus our Astrea stands arraign'd to dye And nothing's to be heard but Crucifye When this alarum sounded to the hight And heav'n and hell conspired both to fight Against this Captaine then his daunted troope Forsooke their Lord each soule began to droope Yet gracious he imparted his renowne He wonne the battell and gave them the Crowne Yea he became a curse that knew no sinne He was inrob'd and disinrob'd ag'in His temples crown'd with thornes his glorious face Was spit upon and beate with all disgrace That abject slaves could use and then they cry To blinded Christ who beate thee prophecy Ah stupid soules as if that piercing sight That viewes all secrets in the darkest night That tries the thoughts of every heart and stares Into each soule is now as blind as theirs Thus was he basely us'd but all 's not done The hell-invented fury is to come By vulgar slaves the very Sonne of God Is falsely scourg'd and forc'd to kisse the rod Yea he whose nostrils able are to cast Out flame and burne the world at every blast Whose mighty breath is able for to fanne Ten thousand worlds and puffe out every man Like chaffe and make the flanting world to tosse Like waves is now compeld to beare his crosse Whereon his body in a vulgar streete Hung naked pierc'd with nayles both hands and feete The well of water he that gave the first To all his creatures now 's himselfe a thirst Yea he to whom all thirsty creatures call For drinke must now drinke vinegar with gall They pierc'd his side from whence came watry blood More soveraigne farre then all Bethesda's flood These tyrants thus though to themselves denide Did make a way to heaven through his side Alas my muse for sighes can scarce prolong The fatall tuning of so dire a song To see heavens faire Idea seeme so foule Sobbing and sighing out his burdned soule Those eyes which now seeme dim were once so bright From hence it was that Phoebus begd his light Those armes which now hang weake did from their birth Support the tottring vaults of heaven and earth That tongue that now lyes speechlesse in his head A word of that would soone revive the dead One touch of those Pale fingers would suffice To heale the sicke and make the dead man rise Those legges which now are peircd by abject slaves were kindly entertaind amongst the waves The coate whose warmth did give his sides reliefe The hem the very hem could cure a griefe But now strength's weake th'omnipotent's a crying For aid health's sicke and life it self 's a dying His head hangs drooping and his eyes are fixt His weakned armes growne pale the sunne's eclipst O boundlesse love thus thus thou didst expose Thy selfe to damned paines to save thy foes Hell fought against him heaven began to frowne And justice soone sent vengeance posting downe Who clad with fury being angry shakes Her ugly head whose haire doth nurture snakes Shee layes about her greedy of her prey Quencheth her thirst with blood and so away And mercy now lies cover'd in a cloud And will not heare although his sighes are loud Although his cries are such that cause a stone To heare yet sinne makes heav'n forget her owne Heav'n frownes as if shee had her owne forgot Mercy lookes off as if shee knew him not He suffred paines that hell it selfe devisd So much that justice cride I am suffic'd His tortures were so high so great so sore That hell cride out I can inflict no more Which done the heavens closd up their lamping light And turn'd the day into a dismall night Bright Phoebus vaild his face and would not see Wormes actors of so bloody treachery And quivering earth her wonted rigour lackt And straight stood trembling at so dire a fact The buri'd Saints arose to see betwixt Two dusky clouds their glorious Sunne eclipst Thus heav'n it selfe with the terrestriall Ball ' Doth joyne to celebrate his funerall The Landlord of the globe who first did raise Earths fabricke was a tenant for three dayes But when once Christ did cease to be turmoyld Heaven and he was gladly reconcil'd Mercy came dancing from the angry denne Tost off her cloudy mantle smild againe Pearch'd on her brightest throne and makes a vow To smooth the wrinckled furrowes of her brow And grim fac'd vengeance shee that 's onely fed With poyson dares not shew her snaky head For feare all