MARIE MAGDALENS LAMENTATIONS FOR THE LOSSE OF HER MASTER IESVS Disce mori mundo vivere disce Deo LONDON Printed by Adam Islip for Edward White and are to be sold at his shop dwelling at the little North dore of Paules at the signe of the Gun 1601. Yea soule confounding sinne so far hath crept Repentant sighes are reckoned for toies And Maries teares contemned long have slept As jems unpriz'd which corrupt age destroies Save that her Lord because they still should last In surest caske hath them invessel'd fast For wretched soules let loose to libertie So wanton like are weaned to each wrong So licensed to worke impietie And free to fleshly wils have liv'd so long That those fresh springs whence penitent tears should flow Presumption hath so stopt that none will know And sencelesse hearts obdurat to all good Have so perverted their perfixed end That now O greefe their sighs and dearest bloud To feed fond fancie they doe vainely spend But for their sins one teare for to let fall They have alas nor eye nor heart at all Ah could they see what sinne from sence hath shut How sweet it were to summon deeds misdone To have their lives in equall ballance put To waigh each worke ere that the judge doe come Ah then their teares would trickle like the raine And their eye-flouds would helpe to fill the maine They would with Marie send forth bitter cries To get the ioies of their soule-saving love They would gush forth fresh fountaines from their eies To win his favour and his mercie prove Eyes hart and tongue should poure breath out send Teares sighs and plaints untill their love they find No idle houres ill spent in fond delight No teares distil'd for momentarie losses No sighs for missing absent lovers sight No care contriv'd of common worldly crosses Should then be us'd but all consum'd in this To beg amendment and bewaile their misse Yea all too little to an humble soule That inly sees her ill misgovern'd life Would it appeare to spend whole yeares in dole Yea many ages to declare her strife Would passe as minuts wishing time would stand While she with feare her endlesse faults had scand But farre from this lives sinners too secure Who giving bridle to their selfe-desires Cannot alas one scanted houre indure In sacred service but their mind aspires In following pleasures height whose froward will In doing good doth make them carelesse still Which seene with pitie on our gracelesse minds This blessed sinner whose so precious teares Once bath'd his feet that heaven and earth in binds And made a towell of her trayling haires To wipe the drops which for her sins were shed Now deignes to tell how our soules should be fed And Marie shewes to maids and matrones both How they should weepe and decke their rose-like cheekes With showers of greefe whereto hard hearts are loth And who it is her matchlesse mourning seekes And when we ought to send our reeking sighs To thicke the passage of the purest lights And Marie showes us when we ought to beat Our brasen breasts and let our robes be rent How prostrating to creepe unto the seat Of that sweet lambe whose bloud for us was spent And that we should give way unto our woes When the excesse no fault or errour showes If you will deigne with favour to peruse Maries memoriall of her sad lament Exciting Collin in his graver Muse To tell the manner of her hearts repent My gaine is great my guerdon granted is Let Maries plaints plead pardon for amisse Marie Magdalens first Lamentation At the Tombe of Iesus WHat climat will affourd a mournfull mate All wo-begon that vollies out hir grones Whose griefs do equallize my sad-grown state Whose heart poures forth a sea of helpelesse mones If to my care companion such there be I le helpe her mourne if she will mourne with me But sure no such associat there is My Muse may tell a greefe without compare A blacke rehearse of metamorphos'd blis And sad memoriall of untimely care Lugubre Carmen fitteth best my use In vvaining state best fits a wailing Muse. The deepest passion of true burning love That ever any love-sicke heart possest Drown'd in distresse I silly vvoman prove Whose ardent zeale is nurse of mine vnrest But even to death O haplesse death alone I ru'd his death vvhen other friends vvere gone I did behold my loves too cruell death With these sad eyes made red vvith brinish teares My soule did sorrow for his losse of breath By vvhose sweet life my life vvas free from feares Oh had I dy'd vvhen he dy'd on the crosse I needed no complaint to vvaile my losse But that too sweet a favour vvas deny'de I might not I consort my lover dying My course of life doth sorrow still betyde Which moves my soule to such a ceaselesse crying Oh haplesse soule so clog'd vvith care and greefe For losse of him that vvas thy comfort cheefe My Lord is dead to vvhom my soule did live He dy'd for me I vvretch am left alive Now to the dead I lasting praise must give Sith light is lost vvhich did my life revive And all in darkenesse I desire to dwell In deaths dread shade my saddest griefes to tell My Iesus Tombe my mansion is become My vvearie soule hath there made choise to inn Vpon his coarse my comfort shall consume And ioies shall end vvhere ioies did first begin Oh eies gush forth your fast distilling force Of Ocean tears upon his Tombe and corse Oh life-containing Tombe of my dead Lord From thee no chaunce shall hale me hence away I le linger here vvhile death doth life affourd And being dead my twining armes shall stay And cleave unto thee nor alive or dead Will I be drawne from where my Lord is laid Thou art the Altar of all mercie meeke The Temple of all truth the Grave of death The Sanctuarie vvhich lost soules doe seeke The Cradle of eternall living breath Oh sweetest heaven of my ecclipsed Sonne Receive this silly star vvhose light is done Oh Whale that my deare Ionas swallowed hast Come swallow me more meet to be thy prey T was I not he that should in right have past This bloodie tempest I vvas cause I say Vnequall doomer vvhat hast thou misdone To rob the earth of her coelestiall Sonne Oh Cesterne of my Iosâ—ph innocent Let thy drie bottome take me prisoner Sith I not he Oh vvretch most impudent Gave cause that so enrag'd my brethren vvere What pitch clouds darken our translucent vvay And on what shore doth Truths sweet preacher stay Aye me accurst vvhy did I not before Thinke upon this vvhich now I aske too late Why did I leave him vvhen I had him sure To rue his losse and mone my ruthlesse state Oh had I vvatched as I vvaile him novv None could have taken him vvithout me too But being too precise to keepe the Lavv The lawes sweet maker I have thereby lost And bearing
But 'cause love makes me covetous of doing Though Iosephs vvorke no reprehension needs Though to my wish his baulme he vvas bestowing Yet all he did cannot my love suffise But I must actor be to please mine eies Such is the force of true affecting love To be as eagre in effects t' appeare As it is zealous fervently to move Affections firme to vvhat it holdeth deare This love devout sets my poore heart on fire To shew some deed of my most deepe desire And to embaulme his breathlesse corps I came As once afore I did annoint his feet And to preserve the reliques of the same The only remnant that my blisse did meet To vveepe afresh for him in deapth of dole That lately vvept to him for mine owne soule But loe alas I find the grave vvide ope The bodie gone the emptie Sindon left The hollow Tombe I every where doe grope To be assur'd of vvhat I am sure bereft The labour of embaulming is prevented But cause of endlesse vveeping is augmented He vvanting is unto my obsequies That vvas not vvanting to my ceaselesse teares I find a cause to move my miseries To ease my vvoe no vvisht for ioy appeares Thus though I misse vvhom to annoint I meant Yet have I found a matter to lament I having settled all my sole desires On Christ my love vvho all my love possest In vvhose rare goodnesse my affection fires Whom to enioy I other ioies supprest Whose peerelesse vvorth unmatcht of all that live Being had all ioy and lost all sorrowes give The life of lives thus murthering in his death Doth leave behind him lasting to endure A generall death to each thing having breath And his decease our nature hath made pure Yet am poore I of ornament bereft And all the vvorld vvithout perfection left What marvell then if my hearts hot desire And vehement love to such a lovely Lord To see lifes vvracke vvith scalding sighs aspire And for his bodies losse such vvoe afford And feele like tast of sorrow in his misse As in his presence I enioied blisse And though my teares destil'd from moistned eies Are rather oile than vvater to my flame More apt to nourish sorrow in such vvise Than to deminish or abate the same Yet silly soule I plung'd in deapth of paine Doe yeeld my selfe a captive to complaine Most true it is that Peter came and Iohn With me unto the Tombe to trie report They came in hast and hastily were gone They having searcht dare make no more resort And vvhat gain'd I two vvitnesse of my losse Dismaiers of my hope cause of more crosse Love made them come but love was quickly quail'd With such a feare as cal'd them soone away I poore I hoping in despaire assail'd Without all feare persevering still to stay Because I thought no cause of feare vvas left Sith vvhom I feard was from my sight bereft For I poore soule have lost my maister deare To vvhom my thoughts devoutly vvere combin'd The totall of my love my cheefest cheare The height of hope in vvhom my glorie shin'd My finall feare and therefore him excepted No other hope nor love nor losse respected Worse feare behind vvas death vvhich I desired And feared not my soules life being gone Without vvhich I no other life required And in vvhich death had been delight alone And thus ah thus I live a dying life Yet neither death nor life can end my strife Yet now me thinkes t is better die than live For haply dying I my love may find Whom vvhile I live no hope at all can give And he not had to live I have no mind For nothing in my selfe but Christ I lov'd And nothing ioies my Iesus so remov'd If any thing alive to keepe me striv'd It is his image cause it should not die With me vvhose likenesse love in me contriv'd And treasured up in sweetest memorie From vvhich my love by no vvay can depart Vnlesse I rip the centre of my heart Which had been done but that I feard to burst The worthlesse Trunck which my dear Lord inclosed In vvhich the reliques of lost ioy vvas trust And all the remnant of my life imposed Else greefe had chang'd my hart to bleeding tears And fatall end had past from pittious ears Yet pittious I in so unperfit sort Doe seeme to draw my undesired breath That true I prove this often-heard report Love is more strong than life-destroying death For vvhat more could pale death in me have done Than in my life performed plaine is showne My vvits destraught and all my sence amaz'd My thoughts let loose and fled I know not vvhere Of understanding robd I stand agaz'd Not able to conceit vvhat I doe heare That in the end finding I did not know And seeing could not vvell discerne the show I am not vvhere I am but vvith my love And vvhere he is poore soule I cannot tell Yet from his sight nothing my heart can move I more in him than in my selfe doe dwell And missing vvhom I looke for vvith sad seeking Poor vvo-worn womaÌ„ at the Tomb stay weeping Marie Magdalens third Lamentation In finding the Angels and missing whom shee sought BVt hope-beguiling fortune now to châ—ere My long-sad spirits vvith a shade of ioy With Angels presents doth preseÌ„t me here GraÌ„ting a momeÌ„ts mirth to increase annoy For looking him though for him I find twaine To thinke on him redoubleth still my paine Yet for a time I vvill revive my soule With this good hope vvhich may my hopes exceed Comfort sweet comfort shall my cares controule Releefe may hatch vvhere greefe did lately breed I seeke for one and now have found out twaine A bodie dead yet two alive againe My vvofull vveeping all vvas for a Man And now my teares have Angels bright obtained I vvill suppresse my sigh-swolne sadnesse than And glad my heart vvith this good fortune gained These Heaven attendants to a parle envite me I le heare vvhat they vvill say it may delight me For I assure my selfe if that the corse By fraud or mallice had removed bin The linnen had not found so much remorse But had been caried too away vvith him Nor could the Angels looke so chearefully But of some happier chance to vvarrant me And for to free me from all feares even now They thus encounter these their speeches vvere And thus they spake Woman vvhy vveepest thou As if they bad me vveeping to forbeare For ill it fits a mortall eye should vveepe Where heavenly Angels such reioicing keepe Erewhile they said Thou camst vvith manly courage Arming thy feet through greatest thornes to run Thy bodie to endure all tyrants rage Thy soule no violent tortures for to shun And art thou now so much a vvoman made Thou canst not bid thine eies from teares be staide If that thou hadst a true Disciples name So many certaine proofes vvould thee persuade But incredulitie so blots the same Thou of that title art unvvorthie made And therefore vvoman
too much vvoman now Tell us O vvoman wherefore vveepest thou If there vvere any coarse here lying by We then vvould thinke for it thou shedst thy teares That sorrow for the dead inforst thee cry But now this place a place of ioy appeares Thou findst no dead but living to be here Oh then why weepest thou with mournfull cheare What is our presence so discomfortable That seeing us thou art inforst to vveepe Thinkst thou if teares vvere so availeable That vve our selves from flowing streams could keep Or is thy kindnesse in this course extended That vve vvith teares should thus be entertained If they be teares of love to shew good vvill As love is knowne so let them be suppressed If teares of vvrath denouncing anger still To shed them here thou shouldst not have addressed Here vvhere all anger lately buried vvas But none deserv'd ah none deserv'd alas If they be teares of sorrow dead mens duties The dead revived they are spent in vaine If teares of ioy destilled from the booties Of happie fortune flowers of ioyfull gaine It better were that fewer had been spent And fitter tokens might expresse content And Angels semblance visible presents The vvill invisible of his dread Lord Whose shapes are shaddowed after the intents And drift of him that rules him by his vvord They brandish swords vvheÌ„ God begins to frown They sheath in scabbards when his wrath is downe When he vvould fight they armed come to field When he vvould terrifie their forme afright When he would comfort they their couÌ„tenance yeeld To smiling lookes and signes of sweet delight Mirth in their eies and mildnesse in their vvords All favour grace and comelinesse affourds Why weepest thou Marie then vvhen we reioice Thinke not our nature can degenerat Or faile in dutie vvhich vve hold so choice Ours is no changing or sin-working state Doest thou more love or more his secrets know Than vve that at his Throne our service show Oh deeme not Marie deeme not then amisse Against so plaine apparent evidence At our request forbeare and leave of this Leave vveeping Marie and vvith teares dispence Exchange thy sorrow for our offered ioy Accept sweet comfort and forsake annoy No no you Saints of glorie ever shining Persuade not me to harbor ioyfull glee But thinke to vvhom my sorrow is enclining And beare vvith my poore love-bound miserie Alas I vveepe for this one only losse For vvhom all ioy doth but inferre new crosse For while he liv'd I made my Paradise In every place vvhere I his presence found A speciall blisse vvas every exercise Wherein I shewed my service to him bound Each season vvherein I inioyd my king Did seeme to me a never dying Spring Marie Magdalens fourth Lamentation Marie bewailes the losse of that part which Christ promised her when he said Marie hath chosen the better part which shall not be taken from her IT comforts me to send forth dryrie plaints To fill the aire vvith my uncessant cries To volley forth a sea of sad laments With liquid teares to moisten still mine eies Yet neither plaints nor cries laments nor teares Can serve can ease can salve can shew my feares For all inioin'd to doe their best availe To helpe the mourne of my greefe-burthened soule Persuade me still it is my best to vvaile And spend the day in pittie-pleading dole Sith vvhom I chose the comfort of my heart Is now bereft oh care-increasing smart That I did chuse the best and precious part It is no doubt sith Christ I only chose My Lord the soveraigne of my zealous heart Whom to possesse I wish my life to lose But how I have it now I cannot say Sith he that vvas that part is tane away Ah could I still have kept him vvith me here I vvould not thus have lost him from my sight No I vvould not have parted from my deare If to my vvill I had obtained might And might I now vvith teares his presence buy Rather than lose it I all chance vvould trie Sith then I nothing seeke but vvhat I chose And losse of choice is all my combats cause Either vouchsafe this part I doe not lose Or I see not how to averre this clause Or how poore vvretch I now may truly say I chose best part vvhich is not ta'ne away But happily his heavenly meaning vvas That it should not be taken from my heart Though from mine eies thou suffered it to passe Thy inward presence should supplie this part And yet I thinke if thou vvithin me vvere I should thee feele and felt not seeke thee here Thou art too hote a fire to heat my breast And not to burne me vvith thy scorching flame Thy glorious light vvould not leave me to rest In this blind darkenesse if I had the same For if thy glorie in me duly shin'd It vvould reioice and cheere my dying mind No no if that I had the Virgins boy My innocent heart vvhich never yet hath knowne To counterfeit an outside of hid ioy Could not complain and make such greevous mone Nor should my thoughts feed on a dead maÌ„s grave If they at home so sweet a feast might have My love vvould not retaine a thought to spare Nor have an idle minute for to spend In any other action for to care But in the sweet amplecting of my freind Ah nothing could vvithdraw my mind from this To abridge least part in me from such a blisse My starving thirst for his lost sight is such The sea of my still flowing ioies againe So able is to let me drinke as much As may suffice to fill my longing paine That though each part vvhole tides of ioy should drinke Yet all too few my greedie drought vvould thinke In true loves hearts each part is made an eie And every thought prefixed for a looke Then I so sweet an obiect soone vvould spie That mongst so many eyes should darknesse brooke So cleare a shine so bright so cleare a light Could not be hidden from a lovers sight Yea doubtlesse had the Lord in me a seat I vvould not envie at the fortunes sweet Of mightiest prince or empresse ne're so great Yea I vvould more if so he thought me meet Reioice in earth to be his Tombe or shrine Than be in heaven a Throne or Saints faire shine But peradventure now t is vvith my mind As earst it vvas vvith his Apostles eyes Who on the sea thought they a ghost did find When there he walked in miraculous vvise And I knowing more his bodies shape than might Take him but for a fancie in hearts sight But oh sâ—d soule it seemes too strange that he He vvhom I seeke and hee for vvhom I vveepe Should to my plainings thus estranged be And leave me to these fits vvhich sorrovv keepe If that in me a cause he did not see For vvhich he vvill not yet be seene of mee For hence it comes that vvater-vvasted eies Commaund a fresh incessant showers of teares And drive my breast
If life hovv doe I then such dead fits prove If it bereaveth sence hovv did I see The Angels then if it revive the same Why did I not knovv Iesus vvhen he came And doe I in such zeale thus seeke for one Whom vvhen I have found out I do not know Or if I know him that of late vvas gone Now having him vvhy doe I seeke him so Behold my Christ is come he vvhom I sought Doth talke vvith me and I my selfe know nought Why doe I not then vvipe my dazled eies Ah hath my Lord in this vvorld liv'd so long Di'de vvith such paine shed shours of tears with cries Laboured so much and suffered so much vvrong And hath thereby no more preferment cought But for to be a silly Gardiner thought And hath my kindnesse so much cost bestowed Vpon the ointment vvhich I did prepare Have I in anguish pin'd and so long sorrowed Shead all these teares and had such heedlesse care And vvas all done for one and one no better Than is a silly simple Gardiner Alas and is a silly garden plot The best free-hold that my love can afford Is this the highest office he hath got To be a Gardiner now that vvas my Lord He better might have liv'd and owned me Than vvith his death to have bought so small a fee. Marie Magdalens sixt Lamentation Iesus said unto hâ—r Marie she turned and said unto him Rabbâ—ni OH loving Lord thou only didst deferre My consolation to encrease it more That thy delightfull presence might preferre The better vvelcome being vvisht so sore In that thy absence little hope had left Vnto my heart so long of blisse bereft It may be that I knew not former blisse Till I a time vvas from the sweetnesse vvean'd Nor vvhat it vvas such treasures rich to misse Which in thy presence I of late attain'd Vntill my povertie had made it cleere Of vvhat inestimable rate they vvere But now thou shewst me by a proofe most sweet That though I paid thee vvith my dearest love With vvater of my teares to vvash thy feet With my best breath vvhich all desire could move Yet small the price vvas that I did bestow Waying the vvorth which now thou letst me know I sought thee dead pind in a stonie gaile But find thee living and at libertie Shrin'd in a shroud thy visage vvan and pale Left as the modell of all miserie But now invest in glorious robes I find thee And as the president of blisse I mind thee As all this vvhile I sought but could not find Wept vvithout comfort cal'd unanswered to So now thy comming satisfies my mind Thy triumphs please my teares vvhich long did vvo And all my cries are husht vvith this one vvord Marie cause sweetly spoken from my Lord. For vvhen I heard thee call in vvonted sort And vvith thy usuall voice my only Name Issuing from that thy heavenly mouths report So strange an alteration it did frame As if I had been vvholly made anew Being only nam'd by thee vvhose voice I knew Whereas before my greefe benum'd me so My bodie seem'd the hearse of my dead hart My heart soules coffin kil'd vvith care and vvo And my vvhole selfe did seeme in every part A double funerall presented plaine Of thee and of my selfe together slaine But now this one vvord hath my sence restored Lightned my mind and quickned my heart And in my soule a living spirit poured Yea vvith sweet comfort strengthened every part For vvell this vvord a spirit dead may raise Which only vvord made Heaven World and Seas Marie I vvas vvhen sin possest me vvhole Marie I am being now in state of grace Marie did vvorke the ill that damn'd her soule Marie did good in giving ill place And now I shew both vvhat I vvas and am This vvord alone displaies my ioy and shame For by his vertues that did speake the same An Epitome of all his mercies sweet A Repetition of my miseries came And all good haps I did together meet Which so my sences ravished vvith ioy I soone forgot my sorrowes and annoy And thus my heart a troupe of ioies did lead Mustered in rankes to mutinie they fell Conspiring vvhich might worthiest be made With them my owne unworthies doe rebell And long in doubtfull issue they contend Till view of highest blisse the strife did end He vvas my Sunne vvhose going downe did leave A dumpish night vvith fearefull fancies fild And did each starre of glistering shines bereave And all the vvorld vvith mystie horror hill'd And every planet reigning erst so bright Were chang'd to dismall signes in this darke night Yet now the clearenesse of his lovely face His vvords authoritie vvhich all obay This foggie darknesse cleane away doth chace And brings a calme and bright vvell tempered day And doth disperse clouds of melancholie Awakes my sence and cures my lethargie Rapt vvith his voice impatient of delay Out of his mouth his talke I greedily take And to this first and only vvord I say And vvith one other vvord this answere make Rabboni then my ioy my speech did choke I could no more proceed nor more hear spoke Love vvould have spoke but fear conceal'd the clause Hope framed vvords but doubt their passage staies When I should speake I then stood in a pause My suddaine ioy my inward thoughts quite slaies My voice doth tremble and my toung doth falter My breath doth faile and all my sences alter Lastly in lieu of vvords issue my teares Deepe sighs in stead of sentences are spent Their mothers vvant they fill vvith sighs and feares And from the heart halfe uttered breath they sent Which so in passions conflict disagree To sounds perceiv'd they cannot sorted be So fares the heart that 's sicke for suddaine ioy Attaining that for vvhich it long did fire For even as feare is loves still servile boy And hope an usher unto hot desire So love is hard a firme beleefe in gaining And credulous coniectures entertaining And though desire be apt for to admit Of vvisht for comfort any smallest shade The hotter yet it burnes in having it The more it cares to have it perfit made And vvhile least hope is vvanting vvhich is sought The best assurances avantage nought And even as hope doth still the best presume Inviting ioy to vvelcome good successe So feare suspects true blisse can hardly come And cals up sorrow making it seeme lesse With greefe bewailing the uncertainetie Of that vvhich should be sole felicitie And vvhile as these doe mutually contend Feare sometime falleth into deepe despaire Hope rising up his fierie darts doth send Of vvrath repining to the emptie aire Making a doubtfull skirmish dead they stand Till evidence of proofe the strife have skand For though poore I so suddainely repli'de Vpon the notice of his voice well knowne Yet for because so rare a chaunce I spi'de His person chaung'd himselfe unlookt for showne The sight my thoughts into sedition drew Then were they purg'd
froÌ„ doubts by stricter view And then though speeches vvould have issued faine And my poore heart to his have dutie sent Yet every thought for utterance taking paine Which first might be receav'd so hastily vvent That I vvas forc'd indifferent iudge to all To act by signes and let my speeches fall And running to the haunt of my delight My cheefest blisse I streight fall at his feet And kindly offer in my Saviours sight To bath them now vvith teares of ioy most sweet To sanctifie my lips vvith kissing his Once greevous but now glorious vvounds of blis To hear more vvords I listed not to stay Being vvith the vvord it selfe now happie made But deeme a greater blisse for to assay To have at once my vvishes full apaide In honouring and kissing of his feet Than in the hearing of his speech lesse sweet For even as love in nature coveteth To be united yea transformed vvhole Out of it selfe into the thing it loveth So vvhat unites love most affecteth sole And still preferreth least coniunction ever Before best ioies vvhich distance seemes to sever To see him therefore doth not me suffice To heare him doth not quiet vvhole my mind To speake vvith him in so familiar vvise Is not ynough my loose let soule to bind No nothing can my vehement love appease Least by his touch my vvo-worne heart I please Marie Magdalens seventh Lamentation Her falling at Christs feet to kisse them his forbidding her saying Do not touch me for I am not yet ascended to my Father OH loving Lord what mysterie is this Being dead in sinne I toucht thy mortall feet That were to die for me now may not kisse Thy glorious feet yet thou hast thought it meet They should as vvell for my good now revive As for my good they dy'de being late alive Thou didst admit me once to annoint thy head And am I now unmeet thy feet to touch Thou wonted was for to commend the deed Which now thou doest command me from as much O Lord sith I and others shall them feele Why doest thou now forbid me so to kneele What meanest thou good Lord that thou restrainst My heart of such a dutie so desired Sith thou mongst all thy friends to me hast deign'd The first of thy selfe of all required With thy first vvords my eares sole happie be And may I not be blest with touching thee If teares have vvoon such favour from mine eies If longing earnes a recompence so sweet Why doest thou Lord my feeling hands despise And barre my mouth from kissing thy sweet feet Sith lips with plaints hands with will to serve Doe seeme as great reward for to deserve But notwithstanding thus thou doest prevent My tender offer vvhich I vvould effect Forbidding me to touch as if thou meant I should the difference of thy state respect Being now a glorious not a mortall bodie A life eternall and not momentarie For sith the bodies immortalitie The glorie of the soule together knit Are both of them indowments heavenly For such as in sweet Paradice doe sit Rights of another vvorld vvell maist thou deeme This favour than nothing of small esteeme Though to my Father I have not ascended I shortly shall let thy demeanure then Not by the place vvhere I am be intended But by that place vvhich is my due and vvhen With reverence thou farre off vvouldst fall I vvill consent that thou me handle shall If thou my former promises beleeve My present vvords may be a constant proofe Doe not thy eies and eares true vvitnesse give Must hands and face most feele for hearts behoofe If eies and eares deceived be by me As vvell may hands and face deluded be Yet if thou feare least I so suddaine part That if thou take not leave now of my feet With hamble kisse vvith teares fetcht from thy heart Thou never shalt so fit a season meet License that doubt for all these loves of thine There vvill be found a more convenient time But goe about vvhat now more hast requires Run to my brethren tell them vvhat I say That I to satisfie their soules desires For them in Gallilee vvill goe stay And there before them shortly vvill I bee Where they my sacred heavenly face shall see And I prâ—ferring fore my vvish his vvill Even like a hungrie child departed from him Puld from a tear vvhich sooâ—e of milke doth fill Or like a thirstie Hart from brookes exil'd Sorrie that I by carrying ioyfull newes Should leave my Lord vvhom I did rather chuse Alas then said I cannot others be Made happie but by my unhappie crosse Cannot their gaine come in by none but me And not by me but by my heavie losse Must dawning of their day my evening be And to enrich themselves must they rob me Alas goe seeke to better thee deare hart And ease thy vvoe in some more happie brest Sith I unworthie creature for my part Am nothing freed from my late unrest But in the tast of high felicitie The vvant vvhereof doth vvorke more miserie Thus lead by dutie and held backe by love I paced forward but my thoughts goe backe Readie eftsoones a sounding fit to prove But that firme faith supported me from wracke And towards the Tombe in breathing oft I turn'd As it that aire with new refreshing burn'd Sometimes poore soule my selfe I doe forget Love in a sweet distraction leading me Makes me imagine I my love have met And seemes as though his vvords vvere feeding me I deeme his feet are folded in my armes And that his comfort my chill spirit vvarmes But vvhen my vvits are all againe awake And this a meere illusion is found My heart halfe dead it vvonted vvoe doth take And greater greefe my sicke soule doth confound That I alas the thing it selfe must misse Whose onely thought so much delightfull is And as I passed vvhere my Lord hath beene Oh stones said I more happier farre than I Most vvretched caitife I alas have seene When unto you my Lord did not denie The touch of his for ever blessed feet Whereof my ill deserts makes me unmeet Alas vvhat crime have I of late commit That cancels me out of his good conceit Or doth my Lord his vvonted love forget May I no more his vvonted love await Had I for tearme of life his love in lease And did my right expire in his decease Oh in his feet vvith teares at first I vvrit My supplication for his mercie sweet With sobs and sighe poore soule I pointed it My haire did choâ—â—ely â—old it being vvet My lips impression humbly seal'd the same With reverent 〈◊〉 which froÌ„ my sick soule came They vvere the dores that 〈◊〉 first did give Into his favour and by them 〈◊〉 By kind acâ—â—pâ—â—nce in his 〈…〉 By them I did my 〈…〉 Vnto his head 〈…〉 In man a 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉 bâ—goâ—nesse plaine 〈…〉 alas I must contented be 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 beaâ—e a lower saile and 〈◊〉 to â—une 〈…〉 downe my 〈◊〉 that sores so