To baule at Innocence to wound and teare An absent name whilst their unâ—allowed tongues Make me a glorious Martyr in their wrongs I beg no Favour Nay my hearts desire Is still to be calcin'd by such a Fyre That in conclusion all men may behold A faire gilt Counter from a Crowne of Gold Great God I care not this how foule I seeme To Man May I be faire in thy esteeme It matters not how light I seeme to be To the base world so I be weight to thee 56. On NABVCHADNEZZER WHat lucklesse Accident hath bred such ods Betwixt great Babels Monarch and his Gods That they so oft disturbe him and affright His broken slumbers with the Dreames of night Alas what hath this Princely Dreamer done That he must quit the Glory of his Throne His Royall Scepter his Imperiall Crowne Must be expeld his Honour and come downe Below the meanest Slave and for a Season Be banisht from the use the Act of Reason Must be exil'd from humane shape and chew The cudde and must be moistned with the dew Of heav'n nay differ in no other thing From the bruit beast but that he was a King What ayle thy Gods that they are turn'd so rough So full of rage what had they meat enough To fill their golden Stomacks Was thy knee Bent oft enough what might the reason be Alas poore harmelesse things it was not they 'T was not their wills I dare be bold to say They knew it not It was not they that did it They had no pow'r to act or to forbid it Deserv'st thou not Great King the stile of Beast To serve such Gods whose Deities can digest Their servants open wrongs that could dispense With what they'endure without the least offence Illustrious Beast methinks thy better'd state Has no great reason to complaine of Fate Thou art more neere to him thou didst adore By one degree then ere thou wert before â—Tis some promotion That there is lesse ods ' Betwixt thy Nature and thy senslesse Gods 57. On PARTIO HAst thou forsaken all thy Sinnes but One Beleeve it Partio Th' ast forsaken None 58. On Ignorance THe greatest Friend Religion hath t' aduance Her glory's unaffected Ignorance The burning Taper lends the fairest light And shines most glorious in the shades of night 59. On a great Battaile VVHen my rebellious Flesh doth disagree With my resisting Spirit me thinks I see Two mighty Princes draw into the Field Where one must win the Day the other yeeld They both prepare Both strike up their Alarmes Both march Both well appointed in their Armes They both advance their Banners T'one displayes A bloody Crosse The other Colours blaze A Globe terrestriall Nature carries one And Grace the other Each by 's Ensigne's knowne They meet encounter blowes exchange for blowes Dart is returnd for Dart They grapple Close Their Fortune 's hurryed with unequall Sailes Somtimes the Crosse somtimes the Globe prevailes We are that Field And they that strive to win us Are God and Sathan Those that warre within us The Flesh the Spirit No parting of the Fray Till one shall win the other lose the Day My God O weaken this rebellious Flesh That dares oppose O quicken and refresh My dull and coward Spirit that would yeeld And make proud Sathan Master of the Field Deare Lord the Field's thy own thou thoughtst it good To purchas 't with my dying Saviours Blood 'T is thine Great God by title and by right Why should thou question what 's thy owne by fight Lord keepe possession thou and let th'accurst And base Vsurper doe his best his worst 60. On the World THe World 's an Inne and I her Guest I eate I drinke I take my Rest My Hostesse Nature do's deny me Nothing wherewith she can supply me Where having stayd a while I pay Her lavish Bills and goe my way 61. On the Sabbath AWay my thoughts Away my words my deeds Away what ever nourishes and feeds My frayle delights Presume not to approach Into my presence dare not once t' encroach Vpon the hallowed Temple of my Soule Ye are not for this Day y' are all too foule Abide yee with the Asse till I goe yonder And cleave the Isaac of my heart in sunder I must goe sacrifice I must goe pray I must performe my holy vowes to day Tempt not my tender frailty I enjoyne Your needfull absence y' are no longer mine But if it may not be that we must sever Our yoakt affections and not part for ever Yet give me leave without offence to borrow At least this day although we meet to morrow 62. On Prayer IN all our Prayers th' Almighty do's regard The Iudgement of the Ballance not the Yeard He loves not Words but Matter 'T is his pleasure To buy his Wares by Weight and not by Measure 63. On FIDO FIndst thou no comfort on this fickle Earth No Joy at all No Obiect for thy Mirth Nothing but Sorrow Nothing else but toyle What doe thy dayes shew nothing worth a smile Doe worldly pleasures no contentment give Content thee Fido Th' ast not long to live 64. On CHARISSA WOldst thou Charissa wish thy fortunes better Then by thy act to make thy God thy Detter I le teach thee how to doe 't Relieve the poore And thou mayst safely set it on Gods Score 65. On RAYMOND SEBVND I Wonder Raymond thy illustrious Witt Strengthned with so much learning could commit So great a Folly as to goe about By Natures feeble light to blazen out Such Heav'n-bred Mist'ryes which the hearts of Men Cannot conceive much lesse the darkned Pen Expresse such secrets at whose depth the Quire Of blessed Angels tremble and admire Could thy vaine-glory lend no easier taske To thy sublime Attempt then to unmaske The glorious Trinity whose Tri-une face Was ne'r discovered by the eye of Grace Much lesse by th' eye of Nature being a story Objected only to the Eye of Glory Put out thy light bold Raymond and be wise Silence thy tongue and close thy'ambitious eyes Such heights as these are Subjects far more fit For holy Admiration then for Witt. 66. On Sinnes MY Sinnes are like the hayres upon my head And raise their Audit to as high a score In this they differ These doe dayly shed But ah my sinnes grow dayly more and more If by my Hayres thou number out my sinnes Heav'n make me bald before that day begins 67. On the Gospell OVr Gospell thrives the more by forreine Iarres It overcomes in outward opposition But O it suffers still in Civill Warres And loses Honour by a home-division If thou assist I care not Lord with whom I warre abroad so I have peace at home 68. On the dayes of Man LOrd if our dayes be few why doe we spend And lavish them unto so evill an end Lord if our dayes be evill why doe we wrong Our selves and Thee to wish our Day so long Our dayes decrease but still our evils renew Great
with as great an ease Send thee more wastfull vermin if he please Perchance 't is grounded kneded and what though Gods Curse is often temper'd with the Dough Beleeve 't the fruits of all thy toyle is mine Vntill they be enjoy'd as much as thine But now t' has fed thee Is thy soule at rest Perchance thy stomack 's dainty to digest No if heav'ns following favour doe not last From the first Furrow to the very Tast Thy labour 's lost The Bread of all thy travill Without that blessing feeds no more then Gravill Now wastfull Man thou mayst repose againe That Modell of Gods Prov'dence and thy paine That bitt of Bread And if thy Dog should fawne Vpon thy lappe let not so deare a Pawne Of greater plenty be contemn'd and lost Remember how it came and what it cost 54. On Faith and Reason TRue Faith and Reason are the Soules two Eyes Faith evermore lookes upward and discryes Objects remote but Reason can discover Things onely neere sees nothing that 's above her They are not Matches Often disagree And sometimes both are clos'd and neither see Faith viewes the Sun and Reason but the shade T'one courts the Mistresse t'other wooes the Maide That fees the Fire This only but the Flint The true-bred Christian alwayes lookes asquint 55. On Carnall Mirth VVHo seeks to quench by help of Carnal frends Those fiery Errants that the consciēce sends Redeemes his Peace but with a further spoyle Drinks in a Fever quenches Fyre with Oyle Lord if thou strike my Conscience and that Me I will expect and trust no Friend but Thee 56. On Prayer PRayre's like a Vapour fum'd from earth that flyes To th' Gates of Heav'n It never rotts i th' Skyes If Faith and it be joyn'd it will obtaine And melt into a first and later Raine If Faith forsake her and they part in sunder It falls in Thunderbolts at least in Thunder 57. On ANNA VVHat faithfull Anna by her Teares had done Deserv'd the double duty of a Son She was a double Parent pleas'd to doe A double Office bore and got him too Thus Samuel was It was lesse strange then rare Borne of her Body gotten by her Prayer 58. On a Gift NO losse to give to thee the gift is more Our owne being giv'n great God then 't was before 59. On my selfe IF Righteous Ely was not vengeance-free How shall I scape He was a Saint to me Nay Lord how would my heart comfort faile If I should weigh thy Mercies in our Scale 60. On Iustification and Sanctification LOrd thou hast promis'd in and for thy Christ To sanctifie where ere thou Iustifi'st Lord all my Evils are Iustifi'd in thee Lord let those Evils be sanctifi'd to me 61. On Mans Love WHen think we Lord on thee when we doe How feeble are our thoughts sinfull too How basely doe our crooked Soules engage Themselves to heav'n We make thy Glory Page To our Salvation Mans more servile heart Loves what he 'd have thee Lord not what thou art This is the very best of Man wherein W' are apt to think we merit more then Sin But there 's a baser Love Our chiefe respects Have meere relation to our owne Defects Like Dogs we fawne upon our Masters Lapps With dirty feet and only love for Scrapps But there 's a baser yet We love for feare Finding like Kain more then we can beare And were it not for shame our hearts would be As warme to Sathan as great God to Thee But there 's a baser yet And baser none We love thee to be lov'd of man alone We force a Zeale usurpe the name of Pure That we may sin more closely more secure We love thee onely to abuse thee just As Whores love Husbands but to cloke their lust How art thou martyr'd in our lustfull Fyres How made a Stale to catch our wilde desires Lord I will love as farre as lyes in me Thee for thy selfe and all things else in Thee 62. On filiall love and servile THey 'r not alike although alike appeare T'one feares for love The other loves for Feare 63. On Grapes IT is receiv'd That seed of Grapes being sowne Brings forth degenerate Clusters or else none But Stocks being grafted prove a fruitfull Vine Whose pleasing Berries yeeld a generous wine We are thy Vineyard Lord These Grapes of our By Nature are degenerous and sower But if thou please to graft us we shall beare Delicious fruit which being prest shall cheare The hearts of Angels and that blessed Trine Of perfect glory with their sprightly Wine 64. On Ioy and Griefe LOrd if my Griefes were not oppos'd with Ioy They would destroy And if my Mirth were not allaid with Sadnesse It would be Madnesse While this with that or that with this contends They 're both my Friends But when these happy Wars doe chance to cease I have no peace The more my earthly Passions doe contest The more my heavenly ' Affections are at rest 65. On Doves and Serpents WE must have Doves and Serpents in our heart But how they must be marshall'd there 's the Art They must agree and not be farre asunder The Dove must hold the wily Serpent under Their natures teach what places they must keepe The Dove can flye the Serpent onely creepe 66. On Christ and our selves I Wish a greater knowledge then t' attaine The knowledge of my selfe A greater Gaine Then to augment my selfe A greater Treasure Then to enjoy my selfe A greater Pleasure Then to content my selfe How slight and vaine Is all selfe-Knowledge Pleasure Treasure Gaine Vnlesse my better knowledge could retrive My Christ unlesse my better Gaine could thrive In Christ unlesse my better Wealth grow rich In Christ unlesse my better Pleasure pitch On Christ Or else my Knowledge will proclaime To my owne heart how ignorant I am Or else my Gaine so ill improv'd will shame My Trade and shew how much declin'd I am Or else my Treasure will but blurre my name With Bankrupt and divulge how poore I am Or else my Pleasures that so much inflame My thoughts will blabb how full of fores I am Lord keepe me from my selfe 'T is best for me Never to owne my selfe if not in Thee 67. On Man AT our Creation but the Word was said And we were made No sooner were but our false hearts did swell With Pride and fell How slight is Man At what an easie cost Hee 's made and lost 68. On Death WE all are going to the selfe same Place We only differ in our Way our Pase One treads the common Roade of Age Another Travels directed by the hand os's Brother Some crosse the Waves perchance the neerer way Some by the winged Shaft that flyes by Day Some ride on Feavers others beat the hoofe With horses in their hands and make a proofe Of their owne strrngth Others more fairely pase On beds of Downe some ride a speedy race On hot-mouthd Surfeits emulous for the Cup
Great ones would not let us feed thy flock Vnles we plaâ—'d the fooles and wore a Frock We were forbid unles wee 'd yeeld to signe And crosse their browes they say a mark of thine To say the truth great Iudge they were not fed Lord here they be but Lord they be all dead Ah cruel Shepheards Could your conscience serve Not to be fooles and yet to let them sterve What if your Fiery spirits had bin bound To Antick Habits or your heads bin crownd With Peacocks Plumes had ye bin forc'd to feed Your Saviours dear-bought Flock in a fools weed He that was scorn'd revil'd endur'd the Curse Of a base death in your behalfs nay worse Swallow'd the cup of wrath charg'd up to th' brim Durst ye not stoope to play the fooles for him 34. Doe this and live DOe this and live T is true Great God then who Can hope for life for who hath power to Doe Art thou not able Is thy Taske too great Canst thou desier help Canst thou intreat Aid from a stronger Arm Canst thou conceive Thy Helper strong enough Canst thou beleeve The suffrings of thy dying Lord can give Thy drooping shoulders rest Doe this and live 35. On Ioseph and his Mistresse WHen as th' Egyptian Lady did invite Wel-favor'd Ioseph to unchast delight How well the motion and the place agreed A beastly Place and t was a beastly Deed A place well season'd for so foule a sin Toâ— sweet to serve so foule a Master in 36. On Scriptum est SOme words excell in vertue and discover A rare conclusion thrice repeated over Our Saviour thrice was tempted thrice represt Th'assaulting tempter with thrice SCRIPTVM EST. If thou would'st keepe thy soule secure from harme Thoâ— know'st the words It is a potent Charme 37. On the flourishing of the Gospell HOw doe our Pastures florish and refresh Our uberous Kine so faire so full of flesh How doe our thriving Cattell feed our young With plenteous Milk with their flesh the strong Heav'n blest our Charles and he did our late Iames From Pharohs troubles and from Pharohs Dreames 38. On Ioseph's Speech to his Brethren GOe â—etch your Brother said th' Egyptian Lord If you intend our Garniers shall afford Your craving wants their so desir'd supplies If He come not by Pharoes life y' are Spies Ev'n as your Suits expect to find our Grace Bring him or dare not to behold my face Some little food to serve you on the way We here allow but not to feed delay When you present your Brother to our Hand Ye shall have plenty and possesse the Land Away and let your quicke obedience give The earnest of your Faiths Do this and live If not your wilfull wants must want supply For ye are Spies and ye shall surely dye Great God th' Egyptian Lord resembles Thee The Brother 's Iesus and the Suitors Wee 39. Of common Devotion OVr God and Souldiers we alike adore Ev'n at the Brink of danger not before After deliverance both alike requited Our God 's forgotten and our Souldier's slighted 40. On the Day of Iudgement O When shal that time come wheÌ„ the loud Trump Shall wake my sleeping Ashes from the Dump Of their sad Vrne That blessed Day wherein My glorifi'd my metamorphiz'd Skin Shall circumplexe and terminate that fresh And new refined substance of this flesh When my transparent Flesh dischargd froÌ„ groanâ—s And paynes shall hang upon new polisht Bones When as my Body shall re-entertaine Her cleansed Soule and never part againe VVhen as my Soule shall by a new Indenture Possesse her new-built house come down and enter VVhen as my Body and my Soule shall plight Inviolable faith and never fight Nor wrangle more â—or alcercat agin About that strife-begetting question Sin VVhen Soule and Body shall receive their Doome Of O yee Blessed of my Father Come VVhen Death shall be exil'd and damn'd to dwell VVithin her proper and true Center Hell VVhere that old Tempter shall be bound in Chaynes And over-whelm'd with everlasting paynes VVhilst I shall sit and in full Glory sing Perpetuall Anthems to my Iudge my King 41. On Death VVHy should we not as well desier Death As Sleep No diffrence but a little Breath 'T is all but Rest 't is all but a Releasing Our tyred lims VVhy then not alike pleasing Being burthen'd with the sorrowes of the Day VVe wish for night which being come we lay Our Bodies downe yet when our very Breath Is yrkesome to us w' are affraid of Death Our Sleepe is oft accompanied with â—rights Distracting Dreames and dangers of the nights VVhen in the Sheets of Death our Bodie 's sure From all such Evils and we sleepe secure VVhat matter Doune or Earth what boots it whether Alas Our Bodye's sensible of neither Things that are senslesse feele nor paynes nor ease Tell me and why not Wormes as well as Fleas In Sleepe we know not whether our clos'd eyes Shall ever wake from Death w' are sure to rise I but 't is long first O is that our feares Dare we trust God for Nights and not for Yeares 42. On the Body of Man MAns Body 's like a House His greater Bones Are the maine Timber And the lesser Ones Are smaller Splints His Ribs are Laths daubd o'er Plaister'd with flesh and bloud his Mouth 's the Doore His Throat 's the narrow Entry And his Heart Is the Great Chamber full of curious Art His Midreife is a large partition Wall 'Twixt the Great Chamber and the spacious Hall His Stomacke is the Kitchin where the Meate Is often but halfe sod for want of Heate His Spleen 's a Vessell Nature does allot To take the skimme that rises from the Pot His Lungs are like the Bellowes that respire In ev'ry office quickning ev'ry Fire His Nose the Chimney is whereby are vented Such Fumes as with the Bellowes are augmented His Bowels are the Sinke whose part 's to drâ—ine All noysome filth and keepe the Kitchin cleane His Eyes like Christall Windowes cleare and bright Lets in the Obâ—ect and le ts out the sight And as the Timber is or great or small Or strong or weake 't is apt to stand or fall Yet is the likelyest Building sometimes knowne To fall by obvious Chances overthrowne Oft-times by Tempests by the full mouth'd Blasts Of Heav'n Sometimes by Fire Somtimes it wasts Through unadvis'd neglect Put case the Stuffe Were ruin-proofe by nature strong enough To conquer Time and Age Put case it should Ne'er know an end Alas Our Leases would What hast thou then proud flesh and bloud to boast Thy Dayes are ev'll at best but few at most But sad at merryest and but weake at strongest Vnsure at surest and but short at longest 43. On the young man in the Gospell HOw well our Saviour and the landed Youth Agreed a little while And to say truth Had he had will and power in his hand To keepe the Law but as he kept his Land No doubt
t'enhaunce His price a little So much undâ—rfoot Well might he give him Bread and drink to boot An easie price The case is even our owne For toyes we often sell our Heaven our Crowne 59. On Esau. WHat hast thou done Nay what shal Esau do Lost both his Birthright and his Blessing too What hath poore Esau left but empty teares And Plaints that cannot reach the old mans eares What with thy Fathers Diet and thine owne Thy Birthright's aliend and thy Blessing 's gone How does one mischiefe overtake an other In both how overtaken by a Brother Could thy imperious stomack but have stay'd And if thy Fathers had not bin delay'd Thou had'st not need have wept and pleaded so But kept thy Birthright and thy Blessing too Had thy unprosp'rous thy unlucky hand Dispatch'd thy Venz'on as it did thy Land Thy sorrowes had not made so great a Heape That had not bin so deare nor this so cheape Had thine given place but to thy Fathers will Thad'st had thy Birthright and thy Blessing still 60. On the absence of a blessing THe blessing gon what do's there now remaine Esau's offended Iacob must be slaine The heart of man once emptyed of a Grace How soone the Devill jostles in the place 61. On the younger Brother I Know the Elder and the Yonger too Are both alike to God Nor one nor other Can plead their yeares But yet we often doe Observe the Blessing 's on the yonger Brother The Scripture notes it but does spare to show A reason therefore I despaire to know 62. On Kain BEfore that Monster spilt his Brothers blood W'â—re sure the fourth part of the world was good O what a dearth of goodnes did there grow When the Fourth part was murd'red at a blow 63. On the righteous Man PRomise is dâ—tt And Det implyes a payment How can the righteous then dout food raymeÌ„t 63. On Faith Love and Charity BY nature Faith is fiery and it tends Still upward Love by native course descends But Charity whose nature doth confound And mixe the former two moves ever round Lord let thy Love descend and then the Fire Of sprightly Faith shall kindle and aspire O then my circling Charity shall move In proper motion mixt of Faith and Love 64. On Iacobs Pillow THe Bed was Earth The raised Pillow Stones Whereon poore Iacob rests his head his Bones Heav'n was his Canopy The Shades of night Were his drawne Curtaines to exclude the Light Poore State for Isacks heyre It seemes to me His Cattell found as soft a Bed as Hee Yet God appeared there his Ioy his Crowne God is not alway seene in Beds of Doune O if that God shall please to make my Bed I care not where I rest my Bones my Head With Thee my wants can never proove extreame With Iacobs Pillow give me Iacobs Dreame 65. On Faith FAith do's acknowledge Gifts altho we have not It keepes unseene those Sins Confession hid not It makes us to enjoy the Goods we have not It counts as done those pious deeds we did not It workes endowes it freely â—accepts it hides What Grace is absent where true Faith abides 66 On Zacheus ME thinks I see with what a busie hast Zacheus climb'd the Tree But O how fast How full of speed canst thou imagine when Our Saviour call'd he powder'd downe agen He ne'r made tryall if the boughes were sound Or rotten nor how far 't was to the ground There was no danger fear'd At such a Call Hee 'l venture nothing that dare feare a fall Needs must he downe by such a Spirit driven Nor could he fall unlesse he fell to Heaven Downe came Zacheus ravisht from the Tree Bird that was shot ne'r dropt so quicke as he 67. On the Thiefe and Slanderer THe Thiefe and Sland'rer are almost the same T'one steales my goods the tother my good name T'one lives in scorâ—e the other dies in shame 68. On Abramâ— pleading for Sodome HOw loth was righteous Abraham to cease To beat the price of lustfull Sâ—doms peace Marke how his holy boldnesse intercepts Gods Iustice Brings his Mercy downe by steps He dare not bid so few as Ten at first Nor yet from Fifty righteous persons durst His Zeale on sudden make too great a fall Although he wisht salvation to them all Great God Thy dying Son has pow'r to cleare A world of sinnes that one shall noâ— appeare Before thine angry eyes What wonder then To see thee fall from Fifty downe to Ten 69. On Mans goodnesse THy hand great God created all things good But Man rebell'd and in defiance stood Against his owne Creation and did staine Nay lost that goodnesse which the Beasts retaine What â—ap ha's Man poore Man above the rest That hath lesse goodnesse left him then a Beast 70. On Zacheus SHort-legg'd Zacheuâ— 'T was the happiest Tree That ever mortall climb'd I meane to Thee Thy paynes in going up receiv'd the Crowne Of all thy labour at thy comming downe Thy Statures lownesse gave thee faire occasion To mount that Tree that Tree to find Salvation But was 't the Tree Zacheus No t' was Hee Whose bleeding Body dy'd upon the Tree 71. On the Roman Turke and Atheist THe Roman worships God upon the wall The Turke a false God Th' Atheist none at all 72. On Babels Building GReat God no sooner borne but we begin Babels accurs'd Foundation by our Sin Our thoughts our words our deeds are ever yeelding The sad materials of our sinfull Building Should not thy Grace prevent it it would even Rise and rise up untill it reach'd to heaven Lord ere our Building shall begin to show Confound our Language and our Building too 73. On the Theife and the Lyer THe Lyer and the Thiefe have one Vocation Their difference is but only in their Fashion They both deceive but diversly proceed The first deceives by Word the last by Deed. 74. On the Egyptians Famine MArke but the course the pin'de Egyptians run When all their coyn when all their corn is done They come to Ioseph and their stomacks plead They chaÌ„ge their beasts for corn their flocks for bread Yet still they want Observe what now they doe They give their Lands and yeeld their Bodies too Now they have Corne enough and now they shall Have seed to sow their barren soyle withall Provided that the fiâ—t of their encrease Be Pharoe's Now their stomacks are at peace Thus when the Famine of the Word shall strike Our hungry Soules our Soules must doe the like We first must part with as by their directions Our Flocks our Beasts our Bestiall Affections When they are gone what then must Sinners doe Give up their Lands their Soules and Bodies too O then our hearts shall be refresht and fed Wee shall have seed to sowe and present Bread Allowing but the fift of our encrease Wee shall have plenty and our soules have peace How art thou pleasâ—d good God that Man shold live How slow art
th' uncorrupted Will Nourisht with Vertue poys'ned with the swill Of base respects Of nature sweet and milde In manners gentle eas'ly knowne whose Childe For by the likenesse ev'ry eye may gather That he 's the Off-spring of a heav'nly Father This suffers all things That can suffer nothing This never ends That ever ends in loathing T'one loves the Darknesse most The other Light The last's the Childe of Day The first of Night The one is meeke The other full of Fyre This never laggs That ever apt to tyre T'one's rash and furious T'other milde and sage That dies with youth whilst This survives with age The One's couragious Tother full of Feares That seekes The other baulks both eyes and eares In briefe to know them both aright and misse not In all respects t'one is what to'ther is not So farre from Brothers that they seeme disioyn'd Not in Condition only but in kinde Admit a falshood that they had one Mother The best that Lâ—st can claime 's a Bastard Brother Great God must thou be conscious of that Name Which jealous Mortals â—ount the height of shame And not thy Nuptiall Bed alone defil'd But to be charged with the base-borne Childe And yet not mov'd and yet not move thy Rod Hast thou not cause to be a Iealous God Can thy just Iealousies Great God be grounded On Mans disloyalty not Man confounded 20. On a Tinder-Boxe MY Soule is like to Tinder whereinto The Devill strikes a Sparke at ev'ry blow My Heart 's the Flint The Steele Temptation is And his Suggestions hit and never misse His Hand is sure My Tinder apt to catch Soone sets on fier ev'ry profer'd Match 21. On ACHITOPHEL SAge were thy Counsels and as well apply'd If thou hadst had but Loyalty on thy side I like thy last Designe above the rest When thou hadst set thy house in order best In all Exploits the Rule is not so ample Not halfe so beneficiall as th' Example Th' Almighty prosper Christian Crownes and blesse All such like Counsels with the like successe Confound Achitophel and Lord impart His Head to us and to our Foes his Heart 22. On Sinne. Vnhappy man Whos 's every breath Is Sin Whos 's every Sin is death SIN first Originall Then our actuall Sin Our Sins that sally forth Our Sins that lurk within Our wilfull Sins and worlds of Sins by chance Our conscious Sins our Sins of darker Ignorance Our oâ—t-repeated Sinsâ—never â—never reckon'd Gainst the first Table Sins Sins done against the second Our pleading Sins our Sins without a cause Our gospel Sins rebâ—llious Sins against thy laws Our Sins against our vowes fresh Sins agin Sin of infirmity and high presumptious Sin Thus like our Lines our Lives begin Continue and conclude in Sin 23 On the Sun and starres OVr dying Saviour's like the setting Sun His Saints on earth are like the Stars of night Experience tels us till the Sun be gon The starres appeare not and retaine no light Till Sun-set we descerne no Starres at all And Saints receive their Glory in his fall 24. On Absolon and Sampson SAmpsons defect and thy excesse of hayre Gave him his death oth'ground thee thine i th' ayre His thoughts were too deprest thine sor'd too high As mortals live so oftentimes they die 25. On Gods favour GOds favour 's like the Sun whose beams appeare To all that dwell in the worlds Hemispheare Though not to all alike To some they expresse Themselves more radiant and to others lesse To some they rise more early and they fall More late to others giving day to all Some soyle's more grosse and breathing more impure And earthy vapours forth whose foggs obscure The darkned Medium of the moister aire Whilst other Soiles more perfect yield more rare And purer Fumes whereby those Beames appeare To some lesse glorious and to some more cleare It would be ever Day Day alwayes bright Did not our interposed Earth make night The Sun shines alwayes strenuous and faire But ah our sins our Clouds benight the ayre Lord drayne the Fenns of this my Boggy soule Whose grosser vapours make my day so foule Thy SON hath strength enough to chase away These rising Foggs and make a glorious Day Rise and shine alwayes cleare but most of all Let me behold thy glory in thy Fall That being set poore I my flesh being hurld From this may meet thee in another world 26. On a spirituall Feaver MY soule hath had a Fever a long while O I can neither rellish nor digest My nimble Pulses beat my veynes doe boile I cannot close mine eyes I cannot rest O for a Surgeon now to strike a Vaine That that would lay my Heate and ease my Paine No no It is thy Blood and not my owne Thy Blood must cure me Iesus or else none 27. On Davids â—hoise FAmine the Sword the Pestlence which is least When all are great which worst when bad 's the best It is a point of Mercy yet to give A choise of death to such as must not live But was the choise so hard It seemes to me There was a worse and better of the three Though all extreame Me thinks the helpe of hands Might swage the first The bread of forraine lands Might patch their lives make some slender shift To save a while with necessary thrift Me thinks the second should be lesse extreame Then that Alas poore Israel could not dreame Of too much peace that had so oft division Among themselves and forrain opposition Besides their King was martiall his acts glorious His heart was valiant and his hand victorious Me thinks a Conquerour a Man o th' sword Should nere be puzzeld aâ— so poore a word In both however David at the worst Might well presume he should not die the first But oh the Plague's impartiall It respects No quality of Person Age nor Sex The Royall brest 's as open to her hand As is the loosest Pesant in the land Famin the Sword the Pest'lence David free To take his choice and pick the worst of three He that gave David power to reâ—use Instructed David in the Art to chuse He knew no forrain KingdoÌ„e could afford Supply where God makes Dearth He knew the Sword Would want an arm the arm would want her skill And skill successe where heav'n prepares to kill He knew there was no trust no safe recourse To Martiall man or to his warlike horse But it is Thou Great God the only close Of his best thoughts and the secure repose Of all his trust He yields to kisse thy Rod Israel was thine and thou art Israels God He knâ—w thy gratious wont thy wonted Grace He knew thy Mercy tooke the upper place Of all thy Attributes 'T was no adventure To cast himselfe on Thee the only Center Of all his hopes Thy David knâ—w the danger To fall to th' hands of man or frend or stranger Thus Davids filiall hopes being anchor'd fast On Gods knowne Mercy wisely â—hose the
last If thou wilt give me Davids heart I le voyce Great God with David and make Davids choyce But stay deare Lord my tongue 's too bold too free To speake of choyce that merits all the Three 28. On Mans unequall division LOrd 't is a common course w' are apt and free To take the Best and share the worst to Thee We Fleet the Mornings for our owne Designe Perchance the Flotten Afternoones are thine Thou giv'st us Silke we offer Cammills hayre Thy Blessings march i th' Front our thanks i th' Reare 29. On Beggers NO wonder that such swarmes of Beggers lurke In every street 'T is a worse trade to worke Then begge Yet some if they can make but shift To live will thinke it scorne to thrive by gift 'T is a brave mind but yet no wise foreâ—cast It is but Pride and Pride will stoope at last We all are Beggers should be so at least Alas we cannot worke The very best Our hands can doe will not maintaine to live VVe can but hold them up whilst others give No shame for helples Man to pray in aid Great Sol'mon scornd not to be free o' th' Trade He begg'd an Almes and blusht not For the Boone He got was trâ—ble fairer then his Crowne No wonder that he thriv'd by begging so He was both Begger and a Chuser too O who would trust to Worke that may obtaine The Suit he beggs without or sweat or paine O what a priviledge Great God have we That have the Honour but to begge on thee Thou dost not â—right us with the tort'ring Whips Of Bedels nor dost answere our faint lips With churlish language Lord thou dost not praise The stricter Statute of last Henries dayes Thou dost not dampe us with the empty voyce Of Nothing for yee If our clam'rous noyse Should chance t' importune turn'st thy gracious eye Vpon our wants and mak'st a quick supply Thou dost not brand us with th'opprobrious name Of idle vagabonds Thou know'st w' are lame And canâ—ot worke Thou dost not Pharo-like Deny us Straw and yet requier Brick Thou canst not heare us grone beneath our Taske But freely giv'st what we have Faith to aske The most for which my large desire shall plead To serve the present's but a Loafe of Bread Or but a Token ev'n as Beggers use That of thy love will fill my slender Cruse Lord during life I le begge no greater Boone If at my Death thou 'lt give me but a Crowne 30. On the two Children MY Flesh and Spirit Lord are like those payre Of Infants whose sad Mothers did repayre To Iustice T'one is quick the other dead The two promiscuous Parents that doe plead For the live Childe is Thee and Sathan Lord Both claime alike Iustice cals forth the Sword And seeing both with equall teares complaine Proffers to cleave the Children both in twaine And make them equall sharers in the same That both doe challenge and what both disclaime Sathan applaudes tho motion and replyde Nor thine nor mine but let them both divide And give alike to both But thou deare Lord Dislik'st the Iustice of th'unequall Sword Rather then share it dead thou leav'st to strive And wilt not own't at all if not alive The Sword 's put up straight condemnes the other To be the false calls Thee the nat'rall Mother Lord of my Soule It is but Sathans wilde To cheate thy bosome of thy living Childe Hee 'd have the Question by the Sword decided Knowing the Soule 's but dead if once divided My better part is thine and thine alone Take thou the Flesh and let him gnaw the Bone 31. On two Mysteries A Perfect Virgin to bring forth a Son One three entyre and Three entirely One Wonder of Wonders How might all this come We must be deafe when th' holy Spirit 's dumb Spare to enquire it Thou shalt never know Till Heav'n dissolve and the last Trump shall blow 32. A forme of Prayer IF thou wouldst learne not knowing how to pray Adde but a Faith and say as Beggers say Master I 'm poore and blinde in great distresse Hungry and â—ame and cold and comfortlesse O succour him that 's graveld on the Shelf Of payne and want and cannot help himself Cast downe thine eye upon a wretch and take Some pitty on me for sweet Iesus sake But hold Take heed this Clause be not put in I never begg'd before nor will agin Note this withall That Beggers move their plaints At all times Ore tenus not by Saints 33. On Solomon and the Queene of Sheba IT spreds The sweet perfume of Salomons Fame Affects the Coasts And his illustrious name Cannot be hid The unbeliev'd report Must flye with Eagles wings to th'honourd Court Of princely Sheba Sheba must not rest Vntill her eye become th'invited Guest Of Fames loud Trumpet her impatience strives With light-foot Time while her Ambition drives Her Chariot wheeles and gives an ayry passage To'th'quick deliv'ry of her hearts Embassage True wisdome planted in the hearts of Kings Needs no more glory then the glory'it brings And like the Sun is viewd by her owne light B'ing by her owne reflection made more bright The emulous Queen 's arriv'd Shee 's gon toth ' Court No eye-delighting Masque no Princely Sport To entertaine her No her â—ye her eare Is taken up and scornes to see to heare Inferiour things Sh'allowes her eare her eye No lesse then Oracles and Maiestie How empty pastimes doe resolve and flye To their true nothing when true wisdome's by Th'arrived Queene has Audience moves disputes Wise Solomon attends replyes confutes Sh' objects he answers She afresh propounds She proves maintaines it he decides confounds She smiles she wonders being overdaz'd With his bright beams stands silent stands amaz'd How Scripture-like Apoâ—rypha's appeare To common Bookes how poore when Scripture's neare The Queene is pleas'd who never yet did know The blast of Fame lesse prodigall then now For now the greatest part of what she knew By Fame is found the least of what is true We often finde that Fame in prime of youth Does adde to Falshood and subtract from Truth The thankfull Queene do's with a lib'rall hand Present him with the Riches of her Land Where Wisdome goes before we often finde That temp'rall Blessings seldome stay behinde Lord grant me wisdome and I shall possesse Enough have more or have content with lesse 33. On REHOBOAM COuld dying Parents at their peacefull death Make but a firme Assurance or bequeath Their living Vertues Could they recommend Their wisdome to their heyrs Could hearts descend Vpon the bosome of succeeding Sons As well as Scepters doe as well as Thâ—â—nes Sure Rehobeams Reigne had found increase Of Love and Honour and had dyed in peace Kingdomes are transitory Scepters goe FroÌ„ hand to hand and Crownes from brow to brow But Wisâ—dome marches on another guize Theyâ—â— two things to be Worldly great and wise It was the selfe same Scepter that came downe From Solomon
to thee The selfe same Crowne That did enclâ—se his Princely browes and thine Th◠〈◊〉 same flesh and blood the next o'th'Line The selfe same people were alive to blesse The prosp'rous dayes But not the same successe Where reste the fault what secret mischiefe can Vn-same thy peace 'T was not the selfe same Man 34. On the Prophet slaine by a Lyon T Was not for malice not for want of Food The obvious Lyon shed this Prophets blood Where faithlesse man neglects the sacred Law Of God there beasts abate their servile awe To man When Man dares take a dispensation By sin to frustrate th' end of Mans Creation The Beasts Oft-times by mans Example doe Renounce the end of their Creation too The Prophet must abstaine He was forbid He must not eate And yet the Prophet did Th'obedient Lyon had command to shed That Prophets Blood and see the Prophet's dead O how corrupt's the nature of Mans Will That breaks those Lawes which very Beasts fulfill 35. On Ahab HOw Ahâ—b longs Ahab must be possest Of Naboths Vineyard or can find no rest His tongue must second his unlawfull eye Ahab must sue and Naboth must denye Ahab growes sullen he can eat no Bread His Body prostrates on his restlesse Bed Vnlawfull lust immoderate often brings A loathing in the use of lawfull things Ahabs defier must not be with-stood It must be purchas'd though with Naboths Blood Witnesse must be suborn'd Naboth must lie Open to Law must be condemn'd and dye His goods must be confiscate to the Crowne Now Ahab's pleas'd The Vineyard's now his owne Vnlawfull Pleasures when they jostle further Then ordinary bounds oft end in murther Me thinkes the Grapes that cluster from that Vine Should being prest afford more blood then wine 36. On Rehoboam PEople have Balances wherein to weigh Their new-crown'd Princes which can soone bewray Their native worth Some counterpoyse th'allow Vnhappy Israel had not weights enow To weigh thy Fingers Heads can never rest In peace when their poore members are opprest Had thy unlucky Fingers weigh'd no more Then thy light Iudgement had thy judeement bore But halfe the burthen of thy Fingers weight Thou hadst bin prosp'rous both in Crowne and State The Lyon's knowne by 's Paw The people spends Their Judgement of a Prince by 's Fingers ends 37. On Leprous Naaman THe Leper prompted with his lothsome griefe Seekes to the King of Israel for reliefe But Naaman's vayne desiers could not thrive Israel's no God to hill or make alive The Morall Man is of too meane a Stature To reach his hand above the head of Nature The willing Prophet undertakes the Cure The Leper must goe wash and be secure From his Disease He must goe paddle straight In Iordan's water 'T is a faire Receipt And why in Iordan Have our Syrian streames Lesse pow'r then Isr'els sure the Prophet dreames How hard it is for Mortals to rely On Faith How apt is sense to question why The Cure perplâ—xes more then the Disease Prophets prescribe no better meanes then these I lookd his Ceremonious hand should stroke The place I look'd the Prophet should invoke Some men would faine he cleane if God would stay Their times or would but cure them their owne way The techy Leper is displeas'd hee 'l hence The Iordan Prophet dallyes against sense His wiser servants urge their hasty Lord To Iordan's streames He washes is restor'd How good a God have we whose grace fulfils Our choyce desires oft-times against our wills The Leper's clens'd And now he dos applaud Not Isr'els streames alone but Isr'els God The Prophet must have thanks and Gold beside The thanks are taken but the Gold 's deny'd Who would not deale with Thee that are not nice To sell such Pen'worths at so small a price Naaman in lieu of his refus'd reward Vowes the true God provided when his Lord Shall serve i th house of Rimmon if he bow For fashion-sake he may secure his Vow Some will not stick to lend their God a house Might they reserve one roome for their owne use Gehazi thinks the Cure too cheape He soone Oretakes the Lepers Chariâ—t asks a Boone I' th' Prophets name But marke what did befall He got his Boone but got his plague withall Vnlawfull gaines are least what they appeare And ill got Gold is a alwayes bought too deare Lord I did wash in Iordan and was cur'd My Flesh that false Gehazi hath procur'd A sinfull purchase having over-run The clensed Naaman of my Soule What 's done By false Gehazi let Gehazi beare Let Naamans Leprosie alone stick there O clense them both or if that may not be Lord strike Gehazi and keepe Naaman free 38. On Chamber-Christians NO matter whether some there be that say Or goe to Church or stay at home if pray Smiths dainty Sermons have in plenty stor'd me With better stuffe then Pâ—lpets can afford me Tell me why pray'st thou Heav'n commanded so Art not commanded to his Temples too Small store of manners when thy Prince bids Come And feast at Court to say I 've â—â—at at home 39. On the Widowes Cruse LOrd I 'm in debt and have not where withall To pay My score is great my wealth but small My house is poorely furnisht and my Food Is slender I have nothing that is good Lord if my wasted Fortunes proove no better My Debt is ev'n as desp'rate as the Detter All the reliefe thy servant this long while Hath had is but a little Cruse of Oyle There 's none will give of Almes I neither get Enough to satisfie my wants nor debt Lord if thee please to show the selfe same Art Vpon the slender vessell of my Heart The Prophet did upon the Widowes Cruse I shall have Oyle to sell have Oyle to use So shall my Debt be paid and I go free No Debt is desp'rate in respect of Thee 40. On the swimming Axe THe borrow'd Axe fell in 'T was lost lamented The Prophet moov'd the Workman discontented A Stick he â—ne downe and by the Prophets hand Throwne in the Axe did float and came aland And why a Stick Had that the pow'r to call The massy â—ron up Sure none at all Moses must use his Rod Moses I doubt it Had beene but lame but impotent without it Nor could that Rod have scourged Pharoes Land Had it beene waved by an other hand God often workes by meanes and yet not so But that he can as well without them too God can save Man without the helpe of Man But will not Wils not alwaies that he can Something is left for us we must not lye i th' ditch and cry And if we dye we dye We must not lye like Blocks relying on The workmans Axe There 's something must be done The workmans Axe perchance had never bin Recald againe if not the sticke throwne in We must be doing yet those Deeds as our Have no more native vertue nay lesse power To save us then that sticke
Her thoughts approve The last for present wealth the first for love Both may not be enjoy'd Her heart must smother Her love to one if she affect the other Ah silly Virgin Is the choyce so hard In two extreames Can thy weake thoughts reward Two so unequall with a like Respect Knowst thou not which to slight which t' affect Submit to better judgement and advise With thy best Friend O trust not thine owne eyes This last that seemes so pleasant so acute Is but a Slave drest in his Lords old Suite He brags of Glory and of Princely Power When he is kickt and baffled every hower The Treasure that he boasts is not his owne He basely stole it and the Theft is knowne For which he is arraign'd condemn'd to th'paines Of death His sentence is to hang in Chaines His plott's to bring thee in as deepe as He Beleeve 't It is thy Blood he seekes not Thee The Bribes he gave thee are but stolne Fond Girle Discard those Bracelets and disclaime that Pearle The first whose oft repeated knocks did crave Admittance was the Lord to that base slave His Faith is loyall and as firme his Vow To him his life 's not halfe so deare as thou That wealth that honour that dissembled power That pleasant Pesant offer'd as a Dower Is that faire Lords Nor peace nor pow'râ—or â—or wealth Can any challenge from him but by stealth Match there my Soule and let thy sacred Vowes Plight holy Contracts with so sweet a Spouse His left hand 's full of treasure And his right Of peace and honour and unknowne delight Hee 'l give thee wealth and in that wealth content For present meanes And when thy Glasse has spent Her latest Sand that Time untransitory Thy dayes a Joynture of Eternall Glory 46. On the old and new Garment NEw Garments being brought who is 't that would Not scorne to live a Pris'ner to the Old Yet though our boâ—nteous Saviour at his cost Presents us new we love the old ones most Alas they pinch us O they sit too strait They are too combersome too great a waight No no the old were too too light too great So we have ease we care not to be neat Like tyred Jades our better wils repayre To a foule Stable then t' a Rodâ— that 's faire 47. On Mans co-operation WE are not Blocks We must expect the Call And being cal'd must move and rise withall The Voyce were needlesse and as good be dumb As with the Call not give the pow'r to come Deserves hee food that thinkes it vaine to gape Christ takes his Spouse by Contract not by Rape 48. On the old and new Tables THe former Tables of the Law were broken And left no Monuments of themselves no token No Signe that ever such things were But marke The later were kept holy in the Arke Those Tables are our Hearts Can we be bold To looke for new and yet not breake the old Or can the ruines of the old find place In th' Arke of Glory not repayr'd by Grace Dismount O blessed Moses and renew Those Tables thou hast broken or make new 49. On a Crucifixe WHy not the Picture of our dying Lord As of a Friend Nor this nor that 's ador'd Does not th' eternall Law command that thou Shalt ev'n as well forbeare to make as bow Not to so good an end T' advance his passion The Gold being pure what matter for the Fashion Take heed The purest gold does often take Some losse some prejudice for the fashions sake Not to a Civill end To garnish Halls To deck our windowes To adorne our Walls Shew-bread must not be common And the Cruse Of holy Oyle admits no Civill use No no the beauty of his Picture lies Within T is th' object of our Faith not Eyes 50. On praying to Saints NOt pray to Saints Is not the Warrant ample If back't with Scripture strengthen'd with example Did not that sweltring Dives make complaint For water was not Abraham a Saint Why should reformed Churches then forbid it 'T is true But tell me what was He that did it 51. On Confession EXperience tels That Agues are about To weare away when as our Lips breake out In Spirituall Fevers there 's the same expression Of Health when lips breake forth into Confession But mark These hopefull Symptomes never doe Confirme the Ague gone but faire to goe They doe not alwayes worke what they portend Confession profits not unlesse we mend 52. On SOLOMONS Rejoyce YOung man Rejoyce What jolly mirth is here Let thy heart cheare thee What delicious Cheare In thy young dayes Thy Cates will relish sweeter Walk thy owne wayes Thy Cares will passe the fleeter Please thine own heart Carve where it likes thee best Delight thine eyes And be a Joyfull Guest But know withall The Day will come whereon Thy Iudge will doome thee for the deeds th' ast done O what a Feast O what a Reckning's here The Cates are sweet The Shot 's extreamely deare Lord I have been and am a dayly Guest Too oft invited at the Young mans Feast The Reckning's great Although I cannot pay I can confesse Great God before this Day I had been dragd to the redeemlesse Iayle Hadst thou not pleas'd t' accept my Saviours Baile Lord he must bear 't I doubt For I can get Nor Coyne to pay nor labour out the Debt I cannot digge my Ioynts are starke and lame But I can begge although I beg with shame I have no Grace in begging can receive The first repulse I have no Faith to crave If th'entertainments of the Feast be these Lord give me Famine take the Feast that please 53 On Bread TAke up that bit of Bread And understand VVhat 't is thou holdest in thy carelesse hand Observe it with thy thoughts and it will reade thee An usefull Lecture ev'n as well as feed thee VVe stirre our Lands or give directions how But God must send a season for the Plough VVe sow our Seede But sowe our seed in vaine If Heav'n deny the first the later Raine Small proofe in Showrs if heau'ns pleas'd hand shall cease To blesse those showrs nor crowne theÌ„ with encrease The tender Blades appeare before thine eye But uarefresht by heav'n as soone they die The infant Eares shoot forth and now begin To corne But God must hold his Mildewes in The Harvest 's come But Clouds conspire together Hands cannot work til heav'n shall clear the weather At length 't is reap'd Between the Barne and Furrow How many Offices poore Man runs thorow Now God has done his part The rest we share To Man His providence takes now the care No yet it is not ours The use alone Not bare possession makes the thing our owne Thy swelling Barnes have crownd thy full desire But heav'n when Mows should sweat can make them I but the Sheaves are thrasht the heap lies In thy full Garnier He that sent the Flyes fire To Pharees Court can
Some hotly mounted fiercely gallop up On spurgal'd Broyles whose Frantick motions send Their hasty spirits to their Iournies end Some ride upon the racking Steeds of Treasure Others false-gallop on the backs of Pleasure All journey forwards to the selfe-same Place Some the next way and some the faster pace All post an end till beaten out of Breath They all arrive at the great gates of Death Lord in this common Roade I doe not care What pase I travell so my Way be faire 69. On the life of Man OVr Life is nothing but a Winters Day Some onely breake their Fast and so away Others stay Dinner and depart full fed The deepest Age but sups and goes to bed Hee 's most in debt that lingers out the Day Who dyes betimes has lesse and lesse to pay 70. On Gods Image IT was a dainty piece In every part Drawne to the life and full of curious Art It was as like thee as a shadow could Be like a substance There was none but would Have known thee by 't There needed then no name No golden Characters that might proclaime Whose Picture t' was the Art was so divine That very Beasts did reverence as thine But now alas 't is blurr'd the best that we Or they can judge is this 't was made for thee Alas'tis faded soyl'd with hourely dust Sullyed and shadow'd with the smoke of Lust So swarthy as if that glorious face of thine Were tawnyed underneath the torrid Line How is thy Picture altred How ill us'd By our neglects How slubberd How abus'd Her Cedar Frame 's disioynted warp'd and broke Her curious Tablet's tainted with the smoke The Objects both offensive and the savor Retaining neither Beauty nor thy Favour Lord let not thy displeased eye forsake Thy handy-worke for the bad keepers sake Behold it still and what thou seest amisse Passe by Thinke what it was not what it is What though her beauty and her colours fade Remember O 't was like thee when 't was made There is a great Apelles that can lim With thy owne Pencell we have sought to Him His skilfull hand will wash off all the soyle And clense thy Picture with his sacred Oyle Hee 'l mak 't more faire then 't was at least the same Hee 'l mend the Tablet and renew the Frame Till then be pleas'd to let thy Picture be Acknowledg'd thine 'T was made for none but Thee 71. On the Penny HE that endur'd the Tyranny of Heate The Morning-sorrowes and the Midday-sweat The Evening-toyle and burthen of the Day Had but his promis'd Penny for his pay Others that loyter'd all the Morning stood i th' idle Market whose unpractis'd blood Scarse felt the warmth of labour nor could show A blush of Action had his Penny too What Wages can we merit as our owne Slaves that are bought with price can challeng none But onely Stripes alas if Servants could Doe more then bid they doe but what they should When man endeavours and where heav'n engages Himselfe by promise they are Gifts not Wages He must expect We must not looke t' obtaine Because we Run Nor doe we run in vaine Our Running showes th' effect produces none The Penny 's giv'n alike to every one That works i th' Vinâ—yard Equall price was shar'd T'unequall workes Therefore no Reward Lord set my hands a worke I will not serve For Wages lest thou give what I deserve 72. On a Christian. THe Generous Christian must as well improve i th' quality of the Serpent as the Dâ—ve He must be Innocent affraid to doe A wrong And crafty to prevent it too They must be mixt and temper'd with true love An Ounce of Serpent serves a Pound of Dove 73. On Gods bountie GOd freely gives as freely we receive It is not Doe but Ask and thou shalt have 74. On Sinnes MY Sinnes are like to Mountaines that arise Above the Clouds threat the threatning skyes Lord give me Faith and let that Faith be prov'd In leaving not a Mountaine unremoov'd 75. On the life of Man A Thousand yeares with God the Scriptures say Are reckon'd but a Day By which accompt this measur'd Life of our Exceeds not much an hower The halfe whereof Nature does claime and keepe As her owne debt for sleepe A full sixt part or what remaines we ryot In more then needfull Dyet Our Infancy our Child hood and the most Of our greene youth is lost The little that is left we thus divide One part to cloathe our Pride An other Share we lavishly deboyse To vaine or sinfull joyes If then at most the measur'd life of Man Be counted but a Span Being half'd and quarter'd and disquarter'd thus What what remaines for us Lord if the Totall of our dayes doe come To so-so poore a summe And if our shares so small so nothing be Out of that Nothing what remaines to Thee 76. On the Childrens Bread THy strengthning Graces are the Childrens Bread Which maks thy thriving Children strong able Honour and Riches are the Crummes that feed The Dâ—ggs that lurk beneath their Masters Table Lord if thy gracious pleasure will allow But Bread I 'am sure I shall have Crums enow 77. On Trust and care OVr Trust in God for Riches neither must Exclude our Care nor Care exceed our Trust. 78. On RVSCVS ILliterate Ruscus heard Pedantius preach Admir'd the Church mans learning commended Such things alone that were above his Reach But meanly slighted what he appprehended What hinders then to thinke that Ruscus hath At least the twi-light of a Bastard Faith 79. On the receiving of the Lords Supper MEn take the Sacred Seales of their Salvation As some doe Physick not for health but fashion The Day preceding and the following Day There 's none so strict none so reform'd as they They curb the fury of their wanton Ryot And call their Surfets to a stricter Dyet The Time expir'd the first Assault that haps Prevailes and strikes them to a worse Relaps Like Doggs to vomits they returne agin As though they'ad past a Patent now to sin Let such Day-Christians on the very toppe Of all their mirth remember Judas Sopp 80. On Faith TH'oft shaken Tree growes faster at the root And faith 's most firm that 's somtimes urg'd with Doubt 81. On the Story of Man THe word was spoke And what was Nothing must Be made a Chaos of confused Dust The word was spoke The Dust began to thicken To a firme Clay The Clay began to quicken The grosser substance of that Clay thought good To turne to Flesh The moyster turn'd to Blood Received Organs and those Organs Sense It was imbellisht with the Excellence Of Reason It became the Height of Nature Being stampt with th' Image of the great Creator But Lord that glorious Image is defac'd Her Beautye's blasted and her Tablet's raz'd This Height of nature has committed Treason Against it selfe Declin'd both Sense and Reason Meere Flesh and Blood containing but a Day Of painted
away That for an Angell paid a Groat a day 39. On DAVID WHo ever sung so high so rapt an 〈◊〉 As David prompted by heroick Clio But when thy more divine Vrania sung What glorious Angell had so sweet a tongue But when Melpomene began to sing Each word 's a Rapture or some higher thing Sweet were thy triumphs sweet those ioyes of thine O but thy Teares were more then most Divine 40. On a Monument SEest thou that Mon'ment Dost thou see how Art Does polish nature to adorne each part Of that rare Worke whose glorious Fabrick may Commend her beauty to an after day Is 't not a dainty Peâ—ce And apt to raise A rare advantage to the Makers praise But knowst thou what this dainty Peece encloses Beneath this glorious Marble there reposes A noysome putrid Carkas halfe devour'd By crawling Caniballs disguiz'd deflour'd With loath'd Corruption whose consuming sent Would poyson thoughts although it have no vent Ev'n sucha Peece art thou who ere thou be That readst these Lines This Monument is Thee Thy Body is a Fabricke wherein Nature And Art conspire to heighten up a Creature To summe Perfection being a living Story And rare Abridgement of his Makers Glory But full of loathsome Filth and nasty mire Of lust uncurb'd Affections base desire Curious without but most corrupt within A glorious Monument of inglorious Sin 41. On PLAVSVS PLausus has built a Church And lest his Glory Should dye has boasted his vain-glorious Story Vpon the painted Wall and built to Fame A large Memoriall of his doubtfull Name Plausus 't is bravely done Thy Deeds make knowne Thou either seekst Gods glory or thy owne 42. On CENSORIO THou blam'st the Age condemns the daies of crimes If thou wouldst mend thy Faults 't would mend the Times 43. On fooles of both kinds SOme scorne the Crosse whilst others fall before it Some sit and take the Bread and some adore it Some are too bold and others too too nice Fooles act a Sin whilst they decline a Vice 44. On the name of JESVS IT is the common course of man to double The name of Iesus in the times of Trouble The name of Lord is not a stile to please us Iesu's no Lord with us if Lord no Iesus 45. On the Woman with the Issue HOw could thy Soule fond Woman be assur'd Thy long disease could be so eas'ly cur'd What couldst thou think the touch of cloth was good To dry the Fountaine of thy flowing Blood Or was 't because our blessed Saviour wore it Or why I read not that thou didst adore it He nere so much as ownd thee Woman Sure Thy Faith and not his Garments wrought the Cure 46. On our Redemption WE were created at a Word a Breath Redeemed with no lesse then Blood Death How much greater labour is it than To wash a Sinner then to make a Man 47. On Gods Arme. T Was not that he was weake or thou so strong He dy'd so soone or that thou liv'st so long The head-strong Oxe is haled to the slaughter When the poore worm crawls many a Summer after When Heav'ns victorious arme shal please to strike The Gyant and the Pigmey are alike 48. On our blessed Saviour O Thou that wert the King of heav'n and earth How poorely wert thou attended at thy Birth A Manger was thy Cradle And a Stable Thy Privy Chamber Marye's knees thy Table Theeves were thy Courtiers the Cross thy Throne Thy Dyet Gall A wreath of Thornes thy Crowne All this the King of Glory endur'd and more To make us Kings that were but Slaves before 49. On CORDVPLO KEepe in thy Actions and maintaine the Fences Of thy clos'd lipps Corduplo and thy Senses Thou shalt deceive both Man and Devill too And mayst be damn'd and yet they never know The Devils power of knowledge never delves Into our hearts till we proclaime our selves 50. On Dreames VVHo dreams a Sin not his dreams forbid it An entertainment sins as if he did it Which if thy slumbring Soule could not prevent Th' art safe if thou hast dreamd thou didst repent 51. On ADAM How soon poore Adam was thy Freedome lost Forfeit to death ere thou hadst time to boast Before thy Triumph was thy Glory done Betwixt a rising and a Setting Sun How soon that ends that should have ended never Thine eyes ne'r slept untill they slept for ever 52. On Sins and Blessings VVE write thy common Blessings Lord upon A sliding streame no sooner writ but gon Thy more illustrious Favors we entrust To the dry Sand defac'd with ev'ry Gust But Lord our Scrowle of Sins are written downe On during Marble or some harder stone And our extreame mis-doings are thought good To be inscrib'd like Draco's Lawes in blood Lord let us change our Tables or our Story And we shall have more Comfort Thou more Glory 53. On CELIA CElia complaines her Heart cannot be well Nor will not Celia till it cease to swell 'T is too-too proud with blood perverse and stout It must be launc'd to let the humour out Alas no launce can pierce it It is growne More hard then Raunce or th' Adamantine stone Then Celia like an Adamant thou must Make the incision with her owne made dust 54. On PVSILLVS PVsillus can be jocund never whines When he is full but still in want repines And like a bad-nos'd â—ound that hunts not true Hee 's at a Fault if not the Game in view Be well advis'd Pusillus Heav'n may chance To pipe no more if thou give ore to dance 55. On Beliefe THe Divels doe beleeve I know they doe But their Beleefe does make them tremble too 57. On CRASTINIO PAst time is gone the Future is to be Crastinio say which most belongs to thee The first thou further goest and further from And thou mayst dye before the last shall come The first Crastinio's now growne out of date Perchance the last may come but come too late The last's uncertaine and the first is gone The present then Crastinio's thine or none 58. On an Hower-glasse MAns life is like an Hower-glasse wherein Each sev'rall sand that passes is a Sin And when the latest sand is spent and run Our Sinnes are finisht as our lives are done 59. On KAIN KAin 't is true It was and did appeare A Punishment too great for thee to beare If thou hadst had a Faith and couldst have bin As much opprest and loaded with thy Sin Thy greater patience either might out-worne it Or found more able Shoulders to have borne it 59 On TICIO TIcio stands gaping for the clouded Sun To be inform'd how fast the howers run Ah foolish Ticio art thou sound in minde To lose by seeking what thou seekst to finde 60. On SORTIO SOrtio that makst a Trade of gaming know Thou breakst two great command'ments at a throw The third thou break'st by thy abuse of Lot Thou breakst the Tenth that bids thee Covet not Now tell me Sortio whether