Prayer for the distressed people of Ierusalem and Sion GReat God before whose all-discerning eye The secret corners of mans heart doe lye As open as his actions which no Clowd Of secresie can shade no shade can shrowd Behold the Teares O hearken to the Cryes Of thy poore Sion Wipe her weeping eyes Binde up her bleeding wounds ô thou that art The best Chirurgeon for a broken heart See how the barb'rous Gentiles have intruded Into the Land of promise and excluded Those rightfull Owners from their just possessions That wander now full laden with oppressions Our Fathers ah their savage hands have slaine Whose deaths our Widdow-mothers weepe in vaine Our Springs whose Christall plenty once disburst Their bounteous favours to quench every thirst Our liberall Woods whose palsie-shaken tops To every stranger bow'd their yeelding lops Are sold to us that have no price to pay But sweat and toyle the sorrowes of the day Oppressors trample on our servile necks We never cease to groane nor they to vexe Famine and Dearth haue taught our hands t' extend To Ashur and our feeble knees to bend To churlish Pharoe Want of bread compells Thy servants to begge Almes of Infidels Our wretched Fathers sinn'd and yet they sleepe In peace and have left us their sonnes to weepe We we extracted from their sinfull loynes Are guilty of their sinnes Their Ossa joynes To our high Pelion Ah! their crimes doe stand More firmly ' entailed to us than our Land We are the slaves of servants and the scorne Of slaves of all forsaken and forlorne Hunger hath forc'd us to acquire our food With deepest danger of our dearest blood Our skins are wrinckled and the fruitlesse ploughs Of want have fallow'd up our barren browes Within that Sion which thy hands did build Our Wives were ravisht and our Maids defil'd Our savage Foe extends his barb'rous rage To all not sparing Sexe nor Youth nor Age They hang our Princes on the shamefull trees Of death respect no Persons no Degrees Our Elders are despised whose gray hayres Are but the Index of their doting yeares Our flowring youth are forced to fulfill Their painfull taskes in the laborious Mill Our children faint beneath their loads and cry Opprest with burdens under which they lie Sages are banisht foâ—â— Iudiciall Courts And youth takes no delight in youthfull sports Our joyes are gone and promise no returning Our pleasure 's turnd to paine our mirth to mourning Our hand hath lost her sword Our Head his Crowne Our Church her glory our Weale her high renowne Lord we have sinn'd and these our sins have brought This world of griefe O purchase dearely bought From hence our sorrowes and from hence our feares Proceed for this our eyes are blinde with teares But that aye that which my poore heart doth count Her sharpest torture is thy sacred Mount Sacred Mount Sion Sion that divine Seat of thy glory 's raz'd her tender Vine Laden with swelling Clusters is destroy'd And Foxes now what once thy Lambs enjoy'd But thou O thou eternall God whose Throne Is permanent whose glory 's ever one Vnapt for Change abiding still the same Though Earth consume Heaven dissolve her frame Why dost thou ah why dost thou thus absent Thy glorious face Oh wherefore hast thou rent Thy Mercy from us O! when wilt thou be Atton'd to them that have no trust but Thee Restore us Lord and let our soules possesse Our wonted peace O let thy Hand redresse Our wasted fortunes Let thine Eye behold Thy scattered Flock and drive them to their Fold Canst thou reject that people which thy Hand Hath chose and planted in the promis'd Land O thou the Spring of mercy wilt thou send No ease to our Afflictions no end The end AN ALPHABET OF ELEGIES VPON The much and truly lamented death of that famous for Learning Pietie and true Friendship Doctor AILMER A great favourer and fast friend to the Muses and late Arch-deacon of LONDON Imprinted in his Heart that ever loves his Memorie Written by FRA QVARLES Cum privilegio Amoris Doloris Dignum laude virum Musa vetat morâ— READERS GIve me leave to performe a necessary duty which my affection owes to the blesâ—ed memory of that reverend Prelate my much â—onoured Friend Doctor Ailmer Hee was one whose life and death made as full and perfect a Story of worth and goodnesse as earth would suffer and whose pregnant vertues deserve as faithfull a Register as earth can keepe In whose happy remembrance I have here â—â—usted these Elegies to Time and your favours Had he bin a Lampe to light me alone my priâ—ate griefes had beene sufficient but being a Sunne whose beames reflected on all all have 〈◊〉 interest in his memory To which end I recommend these memorialls to the publike in testimony of my undissembled affection and true pietie that I owe to so great an example of Vertue and Learning F. Q. FVNERALL ELEGIES ELEG 1. All you whose eies would learn to weepe draw neere And heare what none without full teares and hear Come marble eyes as marble as your hearts I 'le teach you how to weepe a teare in parts And you false eyes that never yet let fall A teare in earnest come and now ye shall Send forth salt fountaines of the truest griefe That ever sought to Language for reliefe But you you tender eyes that cannot beare An Elegie wept forth without a teare I warne you hence or at the most passe by Lest while you stay you soone dissolve and dye ELEG 2. BVt stay sad Genius How doe griefes transport Thy exil'd senses Is there no resort To forkt Parnassus sacred Mount No word No thought of Helicon No Muse implor'd I did invoke but there was none reply'd The nine were silent since Mâ—â—aenas dy'd They have forsaken their old Spring 't is said They haunt a new one which their tears have made Should I molest them with my losse 'T is knowne They finde enough to re-lament their owne I crave no ayde no Deity to infuse New matter Ah True sorrow needs no Muse. ELEG 3. CAll back bright Phoebus your sky-wandring steeds Your day is tedious and our sorrow needs No Sun When our sad soules have lost their light Why should our eyes not finde perpetuall night Goe to the nether world and let your rayes Shine there Bestow on them our share of dayes But say not Why lest when report shall show Such cause of griefe they fall a grieving too And pray the absence of your restlesse wayne Which then must be return'd on us againe Deare Phoebus graunt my suit if thou denie 't My teares shall blinde me and so make a night ELEG 4. DEath art thou growne so nice can nothing please Thy curious palate but such Cates as these Or hath thy ravenous stomach beene o'represt With common diet at thy last great feast 1625 Or hast thou fed so neere that there is none Now left but delicates to feed upon Or was this dish so
and that on t' other Seed Moves as they move and stayes when as they stay And seemes delighted in their infant-play Yet fearing danger with a busie eye Lookes here and there if ought she can espy Which unawares might snatch a booty from her Eyes all that passe and watches every commer Even so th' affection of this tender Syre B'ing made more fervent with the selfe-same â—â—re Of dearest love which flamed in their brests Preserved as by fuell in those Feasts Was ravisht in the height of joyes to see His happy Childrens ten-fold unity As was his joy such was his holy feare Lest he that plants his Engines every where Baited with golden Sinnes and re-insnares The soule of Man turning his Wheat to Tares Should season Error with the taste of Truth And tempt the frailty of their tender youth No sooner therefore had the dappled skie Opened the Twilight of her waking eye And in her breaking Light had promis'd day But up he rose his holy hands did Iay Vpon the sacred Altar one by one An early Sacrifice for every Sonne For who can tell said he my Sonnes perchance Hâ—ve slipt some sinne which neither Ignorance Pleaded nor want of heed nor youth can cure Sin steales unseene when men sleep most secure Meditat. 1. WAnt is the badge of poverty Then he That wanteth most is the most poore say we The wretch that hunger drives from door to door Aiming at present Almes desires no more The toiling Swaine that hath with pleasing trouble Cockt a small fortune would that fortune double Which dearly bought with slav'ry then alas Hee would be deem'd a Man that 's well to passe Which got his mind 's now tickled with an itch But to deserve that glorious stile of Rich. That done h'enjoyes the crowne of all his labour Could he but once out-nose his right-hand-neighbourâ— Lives he at quiet now Now he begins To wish that Vs'ry were the least of sinnes But great or small he tries and sweet's the trouble And for its sake he wishes all things double Thus wishing still his wishes never cease But as his Wealth his Wishes still encrease Wishes proceed from want The richest then Most wishing want most and are poorest men If he be poore that wanteth much how poore Is he that hath too much and yet wants more Thrice happy he to whom the bounty of heaven Sufficient with a sparing hand hath given 'T is Grace not Gold makes great sever but which The Rich man is but poore the Poore man rich The fairest Crop of either Grasse or Graine Is not for use undew'd with timely raine The wealth of Croesus were it to be given Were not thank-worthy if unblest by Heaven Even as faire Phaebe in Diameter Earth interpos'd betwixt the Sunne and her Suffers Eclips and is disrobed quite During the time of all her borrowed Light So Riches which fond Mortals so embrace If not enlightned with the Beames of Grace B'ing interposed with too grosse a Care They lye obscured and no riches are My stint of Wealth lyes not in my expressing With Iacobs Store Lord give me Iacobs Blessing Or if at night thou grant me Lazars Boone Let Dives Dogs licks all my sores at noone Lord pare my wealth by my Capacity Lest I with it or it suit not with mee This humbly doe I sue for at thy hand Enough and not too much for my command Lord what thou lend'st shall serve but in the place Of reckoning Counters to summe up thy Grace THE ARGVMENT Satan appeares and then professes Himselfe mans Enemy confesses Gods love to Iob malignes his Faith Gaines power over all he hath Sect. 2. VPon a time when heaveÌ„s sweet quire of Saints Whose everlasting Hallelujah chaunts The highest praise of their celestiall King Before their Lord did the presentment bring Of th' execution of his sacred Will Commited to their function to fulfill Satan came too that Satan which betraid The soule of man to Deaths eternall shade Satan came too and in the midst he stands Like to a Vulture 'mongst a herd of Swans Said then th' Eternall From what quarter now Hath businesse brough thee Satan whence com'st thou The Lord of Heaven said th' Infernall since Thou hast intitled me the Worlds great Prince I hâ—ve beene practising mine old profession And come from compassing my large Possession Tempting thy sonnes and like a roaring Lion Seeking my prey disturbe the peace of Sion I come from sâ—wing Tares among thy Wheat To him that shall dissemble Peters seat I have beene plotting how to prompt the death Of Christian Princes and the bribed breath Of cheapned Iustice hath my fire inflam'd With spirit of boldnesse for a while unsham'd I come from planting strife and sterne debate 'Twixt private man and man 'twixt State and State Subverting Truth with all the power I can Accusing Man to God and God to Man I daily sâ—w fresh Schismes among thy Saints I buffet them and laugh at their complaints The Earth is my Dominion Hell 's my Home I round the World and so from thence I come Said then th' Eternall True thou hast not fail'd Of what thou say'st thy spirit hath prevail'd To vexe my little Flocke Thou hast beene bold To make them stray a little from their Fold Bâ—t say In all thy hard Adventures hath Thine eye observed Iob my Servants faith Hath open force or secret fraud beset His Bulwarkes so impregnable as yet And hast thou without envy yet beheld How that the World his second cannot yeeld Hast thou not found that he 's of upright will Iust fearing God â—schewing what is ill True Lord reply'd the Fiend thy Champion â—â—th A strong and fervent yet a crafty Faith A forced love needs no such great applause He loves but ill that loves not for a cause Hast thou not heap'd his Garners with excesse Inricht his Pastures Doth not he possesse All that he hath or can demand from Thee His Coffers fill'd his Land stock'd plenteouâ—â—y Hath not thy love surrounded him about â—And â—edg'd him in to fence my practice out But small 's the triall of a Faith in this â—f thou suppâ—rt him t is thy strength not hisâ— Can then my power that stands by thy permission Encounter where Thou mak'st an Opposition Stretch forth thy Hand and smite 〈◊〉 what he hath And prove thou then the temper of his Faith Cease cock'ring his fond humour veile thy Grace No doubt but he 'll blaspheme thee to thy fâ—â—c Lâ—e said th' Eternall to thy cursed hand I â—ere commit his mighty Stocke his Land His hopefull Issue and Wealth though nere so much Himselfe alone thou shalt forbeare to touch Medita 2. SAâ—an beg'd once and found his pray'rs reward We often beg yet oft returne unheard If granting be th' effect of love then we Conclude our selves to be lesse lov'd than hee True Satan beg'd and beg'd his shame no lesse 'T was granted shall we envie his successe We beg and our request 's perchance not granted
Soule and give my Pen the Art To move and Me an understanding heart O let the Accent of each word make knowne I mixe the Teares of Sion with mine owne Preserve all such as beare true hearts to Sion We are thy Lambes O be thou still our Lion SIONS ELEGIES Threnodia I. ELEG 1. AH griefe of Times Ah sable times of Griefe Whose torments find a voice but no reliefe Are these the buildings These the tower and state That all th' amazed Earth stood wondring at Is this that Citie whose eternall Glory Could find no period for her endlesse storie And is she come to this Her Buildings raz'd Her Towers burnt Her Glory thus defac'd O sudden Change O world of Alterations She she that was the Prince the Queen of Nations See how she lyes of strength of all bereiv'd Now paying Tribute which she once receiv'd ELEG 2. BEhold her eyes those glorious eyes that were Like two faire Suns in one celestiall Sphaere Whose radiant beames did once reflect so bright Are now eclipsed and have lost their light And seeme like Ilands about which appeares A troubled Ocean with a Tide of Teares Her servant Cities that were once at hand And bow'd their servile necks to her command Stand all aloofe as strangers to her mone And give her leave to spend her teares alone Her neighbours flatter with a false reliefe And with a kisse betray her to her griefe ELEG 3. COmpast around with Seas of briny teares Iudah laments distraught with double feares Even as the fearfull Partridge to excuse her From the fierce Gos-hawk that too close pursues her Falls in a Covert and her selfe doth cover her From her unequall Foe that sits above her Meane while the treason of her quick Retrivers Discovers novell dangers and delivers Her to a second feare whose double fright Findes safety nor in staying nor in flight Even so is Iudah vext with change of woes Betwixt her home-bred and her forreine Foes ELEG 4. DId not these sacred Cawsies that are leading To Sion late seeme pav'd with often treading Now secret Dens for lurking Theeves to meet Vnprest unlesse with sacrilegious feet Sion the Temple of the highest God Stands desolate her holy steps untrod Her Altars are defac'd her Virgin fires Surcease with a stinke her snuff expires cries Her Priests have chang'd their Hymus to sighs and cries Her Virgins weepe forth Rivers from their eyes O Sion thou that wert the Childe of mirth Art now the scorne and By-word of the Earth ELEG 5. ENcreas'd in power and high Chevisance Of armes thy Tyrant foem en doe advance Their crafty crests He he that was thy father And crownd thee once with blessings now doth gather His troops to work thy end him who advanâ—'t thee To be Earths Queen thy sins have bent against thee Strange spectacle of Griefe Thy tender frie Whom childhood taught no language but their cry T' expresse their infant griefe these wretched these By force of childish teares could not appease The ruthlesse sword which deafe to all their cries Did drive them Captives from their mothers eies ELEG 6. FAire Virgin Sion where ah where are those Pure cheekes wherein the Lilly and the Rose So much contended lately for the place Till both compounded in thy glorious face How hast thou blear'd those sun-bright eies of thine Those beames the royall Magazens of divine And sacred Majesty from whose pure light The purblind worldlings did receive their sight Thy fearfull Princes leave their fencelesse towers And flie like Harts before their swift pursuers Like light-foot Harts they flie not knowing where Prickt on with Famine and distracted Feare ELEG 7. GAll'd with her griefe Ierusalem recalls To minde her lost delights her Festivalls Her peacefull freedome and full joyes in vaine Wishing what Earth cannot restore againe Succour she sought and begg'd but none was there To give the Almes of one poore trickling teare The scornefull lips of her amazed Foes Deride the griefe of her disastrous woes They laugh and lay more ample torments on her Disdaine to looke and yet they gaze upon her Abuse her Altars hate her Offerings Prophane her Sabbaths and her holy Things ELEG 8. HAdst thou Ierusalem O had thy heart Beene loyall to his love whose once thou wert O had the beames of thy unvailed eye Continu'd pure hadst thou beene nice to try New pleasures thus thy Glory ne're had wasted Thy Walls till now like thy Reproch had lasted Thy Lovers whose false beauties did entice thee Have seene thee naked and doe now despise thee Drunke with thy wanton pleasures they are fled And scorne the bountie of thy loathed bed Lest to thy guilt the servant of thy sin Thou sham'st to show what once thou gloriedst iâ— ELEG 9. IErusalem is all infected over With Leprosie whose filth no shade can cover Puft up with pride unmindfull of her end See how she lyes devoid of helpe or friend Great Lord of Lords whose mercy far transceÌ„ds Thy sacred Iustice whose full Hand attends The cries of empty Ravens bow downe thine eareâ— To wretched Sion Sion drownd in teares Thy hand did plant her Lord she is thy vine Confound her foes they are her foes and thine Shew wonted favour to thy holy hill Rebuild her walls and love thy Sion still ELEG 10. KNees falslie bent to Dagon now defile Her wasted Temple rudely they dispoile Th' abused Altars and no hand releeves Her house of prayer is turn'd a den of theeves Her costly Robes her sacred treasure stands A willing prey to sacrilegious hands Her Priests are slaine in a lukewarme flood Through every channel runs the Levites blood The hallowed Temple of the highest God Whose purer foot-steps were not to be trod With unprepared feet before her eye Is turn'd a Grove for base Idolatrie ELEG 11. LIngring with Death and Famine Iudah groanes And to the ayre breathes forth her ayrie moanes Her fainting eyes waxe dim her cheekes grow pale Her wandring steps despaire to speed and faile She faints and through her trembling lips halfe dead She whispers oft the holy name of bread Great God let thy offended wrath surcease Behold thy servants send thy servants peace Behold thy vassals groveling on the dust Be mercifull deare God as well as just 'T is thou 't is thou alone that sent this griefe 'T is thou 't is thou alone can send reliefe ELEG 12. MY tongu's in labour with her painefull birth That finds no passage Lord how strange a dearth Of words concomitates a world of woes I neither can conceale nor yet disclose You weary Pilgrimes you whom change of Climes Have tought you change of Fortunes and of Times Stay stay your feeble steps and cast your eyes On me the Abstract of all miseries Say Pilgrimes say if e're your eyes beheld More truer Iliades more unparalleld And matelesse evils which my offended God Reulcerates with his enraged Rod. ELEG 13. NO humane power could no envious Art Of mortall man could thus subject my
shall flye A lessning pitch to the deceived eye If in her Downy Soreage she but ruffe So strong a Dove may it be thought enough Beare with her Time and Fortune may require Your patient sufferance with a fairer flight The generall Application TO thee Malâ—idâ— now I turne my Quill That God is still that God and will be still The painfull Pastors take up Ionah's roome And thou the Ninivite to whom they coâ—e Medit. 1. HOw great 's the love of God unto his creature Or is his Wisedome or his Mercy greater I know not whether O th'exceeding love Of highest God! that from his Throne above Will send the brightnesse of his grace to those That grope in darknesse and his grace oppose He helpes provides inspires and freely gives As pleas'd to see us ravell out our lives He gives us from the heape He measures not Nor deales like Manna each his stinted lot But daily sends the Doctors of his Spouse With such like oyle as from the Widowes cruse Did issue forth in fulnesse without wasting Where plenty still was had yet plenty lasting I there is â—are in heaven and heavenly sprights That guides the world and guards poore mortall wights There is else were the miserable state Of Man more wretched and unfortunate Than salvage beasts But O th'abounding love Of highest God! whose Angels from above Dismount the Towre of Blisse flye to and fro Assisting wretched Man their deadly foe What thing is Man that Gods regard is such Or why should heaven love rechlesse Man so much Why what are men but quickned lumps of earth A Feast for Wormes a bubble full of mirth A Looking glasse for griefe A flash A minute A painted Toombe with putrifaction in it A mappe of Death A burthen of a song A winters Dust A worme of five foot long Begot in sinne In darknesse nourisht Bornâ— In sorrow Naked Shiftlesse and forlorne His first voice heard is crying for reliefe Alas He comes into a world of griefe His Age is sinfull and his Youth is vaine His Life 's a punishment His Death 's a paine His Life 's a houre of Ioy a world of Sorrow His death 's a winters night that findes no morrow Mans Life 's an Hower-glasse which being run Concludes that houre of joy and so is done Ionah must goe nor is this charge confinde To Ionah but to all the world enjoyn'd You Magistrates arise and take delight In dealing Iustice and maintaining Right There lyes your Niniveh Merchants arise And mingle conscience with your Merchandise Lawyers arise make not your righteous Lawes A tricke for gaine Let Iustice rule the cause Tradesmen arise and plye your thriving shops With truer hands and eate your meate with drops Paul to thy Tents and Peter to thy Net And all must goe that course which God hath set ¶ Great God awake us in these drowsie times Lest vengeance finde us sleeping in our Crymes Encrease succession in thy Prophets liew For loe thy Harvest 's great and workmen few THE ARGVMENT But Ionah toward Tharsis went A Tempest doth his course prevent The Mariners are sore opprest While Ionah sleepes and takes his rest Sect. 2. BVt Ionah thus bethought The City's great And mighty Ashur stands with deadly threat Their hearts are hardued that they cannot heare Will greene wood burne when so unapt's the seire Strange is the charge Shall I goe to a place Vnknowne and forraigne Aye me hard 's the case That righteous Isrâ—el must be thus neglected When Miscreants and Gentiles are respected How might I hope my words shall there succeed Which thrive not with the flockes I daily feed I know my God is gentle and enâ—linde To tender mercy apt to change his minde Vpon the least repentance Then shall I Be deem'd as false and shame my Prophecie O heavy burthen of a doubtfull mind Where shall I goe or which way shall I wind My heart like Ianus looketh to and fro My Credit bids me Stay my God bids Goe If Goe my labour 's lost my shame 's at hand If stay Lord I transgresse my Lords command If goe from bad estate to worse I fall If stay I slide from bad to worst of all My God bids goe my credit bids me stay My guilty feare bids fly another way So Ionah straight arose himselfe bedight With fit acoutrements for hasty flight In stead of staffe he tooke a Shipmans weed In stead of going loâ— he flyes with speed Like as a Hawke that overmatcht with might Doing sad penance for th'unequall fight Answâ—ring the Falkners second shout does flee From fist turnes tayle to foule and takes a tree So Ionah baulks the place where he was sent To Nineveh and downe to Iaffa went He sought enquired and at last he found A welcome Ship that was to Tharsis bound Where he may flye the presence of the Lord He makes no stay but straightway goes aboord His hasty purse for bargaine findes no leisure Where sinn delights there 's no account of treasure Nor did he know nor aske how much his Fare He gave They tooke all parties pleased are How thriftlesse of our cost and paines are we Great God of heaven and earth to fly from thee Now have the sailors drunke their parting cup They goe aboord The Sâ—â—les are hoisting up The Anchor 's wayd the keele begins t' obey Her gentle Rudder leaves her quiet Key Divides the streames and without winde or oare She easly glides along the moving shore Her swelling Canvace gives her nimbler motion Sh'outstrips the Tide and hies her to the Ocean Forth to the deepe she launches and outbraves The prouder billowes rides upon the waves She plies that course her Compas hath enjoindher And soone hath left the lessned land behind her By this the breath of heaven began to cease Calme were the Seas the waves were all at peace The flagging mainsaile flapt against her yard The uselesse Compasse and the idle Card Were both neglected Vpon every side The gamesome Porpisce tumbled on the Tide Like as a Mastisâ—e when restrain'd a while Is made more furious and more apt for spoile Or when the breath of man being bard the course At length breakes forth with a farre greater force Even so the miâ—der breath of heaven at last Le ts flye more fierce and blowes a stronger blast All on a sudden darkned was the Sky With gloomy clouds heavens more refulgent eye Was all obscur'd The aire grew damp and cold And strong mouth'd Bâ—reas could no longer hold Eolus le ts loose his uncontrouled breath Whose language threatens nothing under death The Rudder failes The ship's at random driven The eye no object ownes but Sea and Heaven The Welkin stormes and rages more and more The raine powres down the heavens begin to rore As they would split the massie Globe in sunder From those that live above to those live under The Pilot's frighted knowes not what to doe His Art 's amaz'd in such a maze of woe Faces grow sad
Prayers and complaints are rise Each one 's become an Orator for life The Windes above the waters underneath Ioyne in rebellion and conspire death The Seamens courage now begins to quaile Some ply the plump whilst others strike the â—aile Their hands are busie while their hearts despaire Their feares and dangers move their lips to praier They praid but winds did snatch their words away And lets their pray'rs not go to whom they pray But still they pray but still the wind and weather Do turn both ship prai'rs they know not whether Their gods were deafe their danger waxed greater They cast their wares out and yet ne're the better But all this while was Ionah drown'd in sleepe And in the lower decke was buried deepe Medita 2. BVt stay this was a strange and uncouth word Did Ionah flye the presence of the Lord What mister word is that He that repleats The mighty Vniverse whose lofty seat's Th' imperiall Heaven whose footstoole is the face Of massie Earth Can he from any place Be barr'd or yet by any meanes excluded That is in all things and yet not included Could Ionah finde a resting any where So void or secret that God was not there I stand amaz'd and frighted at this word Did Ionah flye the presence of the Lord Mount up to Heaven and there thou shalt discover The exc'lent glory of his kingly power Bestride the earth beneath with weary pace And there he beares the Olive branch of Grace Dive downe into th' extreme Abisse of Hell And there in Iustice doth th' Almighty dwell What secret Cloister could there then afford A screene'twixt faithlesse Ionah and his Lord ¶ â—onah was charg'd to take a charge in hand But Ionah turn'd his backe on Gods command Shooke off his yoke and wilfully neglected And what was strictly charg'd he quite rejected And so he fled the power of his Word And so he fled the presence of his Lord. ¶ Good God! how poore a thing is wretched man So fraile that let him strive the best he can With every little blast hee 's overdon If mighty Cedars of great Lebanâ—n Cannot the danger of the Axe withstand Lord how shall we that are but bushes stand How fond corrupt how senselesse is mankinde How faining deafe is he How wilfull blinde He stops his eares and sinnes he shuts his eyes And blindfold in the lap of danger flyes He sinnes despaires and then to stint his griefe He chuses death to baulke the God of life ¶ Poore wretched sinner travell where thou wilt Thy travell shall be burthen'd with thy guilt Climb tops of hils that prospects may delight thee There wil thy sins like wolves bears afright thee Fly to the vallies that those frights may shun thee And there like Mountains they will fall upon thee Or to the raging Seas with Ionah goe There will thy sinnes like stormy Neptune flow Poore shiftlesse Man what shall become of thee Wher'ere thou fly'st thy griping sinne will flee ¶ But all this while the ship where Ionah sleepes Is tost and torne and batter'd on the Deeps And well-nigh split upon the threatning Rocke With many a boistrous brush and churly knocke God helpe all desp'rate voyagers and keepe All such as feele thy wonders on the deepe THE ARGVMENT The Pilot thumps on Ionah's brest And rowzeth Ionah from his rest They all cast Lotts being sore afrighted The sacred Lott on Ionah lighted Sect. 3. THe amazed Pilot finding no successe But that the storme grew rather more than lesse For all their toilsome paines and needlesse praiers Despairing both of life and goods repaires To Ionahs drowsie Cabbin mainly cals Cals Ionah Ionah and yet lowder yawles Yet Ionah sleepes and gives a shrug or two And snores as greedy sleepers use to doe The wofull Pylot jogs him but in vaine Perchance he dreames an idle word or twaine At length he tugs and puls his heavy coarse And thunders on his brest with all his force But after many yawnes he did awake him And being both affrighted thus bespake him Arise O Sleeper O arise and 〈◊〉 There 's not a twiny thred'twixt death and thee This darkesome place thou measur'st is thy grave And sudden Death rides proud on yoâ—der wave Arise O sleeper O arise and pray Perhaps thy God will heare and not say Nay Repaire the losse of these our ill spent houres Perchance thy God's more powerfull than ours Heavens hand may cease and have compassion on us And turne away this mischiefe it hath done us The sturdy Saylors weary of their paine Finding their bootlesse labour lost and vaine Forbare their toilesome task and wrought no more Expecting Death for which they lookt before They call a parley and consult together They count their sinnes accusing one another That for his sinne or his this ill was wrought In fine they all proove guilty of the fault But yet the question was not ended so One sayes 'T was thine offence but he sayes No But 't was for thy sake that accuses me Râ—sht forth a third the worser of the three And swore it was anothers which he hearing Deny'd it 〈◊〉 and said 'T was thine for swearing In came a fift accusing all replying But little else they all chid him for lying One said it was another said 't was not So all agreed to stint the strife by Lott Then all was whist and all to prayer went For such a bus'nesse a fit complement The Lott was cast t'pleas'd God by Lots to tell The Lott was cast the Lott on Ionah fell Medita 3. O Sacred subjâ—ct of a Meditation Thy Workes O Lord are full of Admiration Thy judgements all are just severe and sure They quite cut off or else by lancing cure The festring sore of a rebellious heart Lest-foule infection taint th' immortall part How deepe a Lethargy doth this disease Bring to the slumbring soule through carelesse ease Which once being wak't as from a golden dreame Lookes up and sees her griefâ—s the more extreme How seeming sweet's the quiet sleepe of sin Which when a wretched man 's once nuzzled in How soundly sleepes he without feare or wit No sooner doe his armes infolded knit A drowzy knot upon his carelesse brest But there he snorts and snores in endlesse rest His eyes are closed fast and deafe his eares And like Endymion sleepes himselfe in yeares His sense-bound heart relents not at the voice Of gentle warning neither does the noise Of strong reproofe awake his sleeping eare Nor louder threatnings thunder makes him heare So deafe's the sinners eare so numb'd his sense That sinne 's no corrosive breeds no offence For custome brings delight deludes the heart Beguiles the sense and takes away the smart ¶ But stay Did one of Gods elected number Whose eies should never sleep nor eie lids â—luÌ„ber So much forget himselfe Did Ionah fleepe That should be watchfull and the Tower keepe Did Ionah the selected mouth of God In stead of roaring judgements does he nod Did
the grounds and how unstable How many Deities yet how unable Implore these gods that list to howle and barke They bow to Dagon Dagon to the Arke But hee to whom the seale of mercy 's given Adores Iehovah the Great God of Heaven Vpon the mention of whose sacred Name Meeke Lambs grow fierce the fierce Lions tame Bright Sol shall stop heaven shal turn his course Mountains shall dance and Neptune slake his force The Seas shall part the fire want his flame Vpon the mention of Iâ—hovah's Name A Name that makes the roofe of Heaven to shake The frame of Earth to quiver Hell to quake A Name to which all Angels blow their Trumps A Name puts frolicke man into his dumps Though ne're so blythe A Name of high renown It mounts the meeke and beats the loftie downe A Name divides the marrow in the bone A Name which out of hard and flintiâ— stone Extracteth hearts of flesh and makes relent Those hearts that never knew what mercy ment O Lord how great 's thy Name in all the Land How mighty are the wonders of thy hand How is thy glory plac't above the heaven To tender mouthes of Sucklings thou hast given Coercive pow'r and boldnesse to reproove When elder men doe what them not behoove O Lord how great 's the power of thine hand O God! how great 's thy Name in all the Land THE ARGVMENT The Prophet doth his fault discover Perswadeâ— the men to cast him over They row and toyle but doe no good They pray to be excus'd from blood Sect. 5. SO Ionah fram'd this speech to their demand Not that I seeke to traverse the command Of my deare Lord and out of minde perverse T' avoid the Ninivites doe I amerâ—e My selfe Nor that I ever heard you threat Vnlesse I went to Niniveh the great And doe the message sent her from the Lord That you would kill or cast me over-boord Doe I doe thiâ— 'T is my deserved fine You all are guiltlesse and the fault is mine T is I ' tâ—â— I alone 't is I am he The tempest comes from heaven the cause from me You shall not lose a haire â—or this my sâ—â— Nor perish for the fault that mine hath bin Lo I the man am here Lâ— I am he The root of all End your revenâ—e on me I fled th' Eternall God O let me then Because I fled my God so flie from men Redeeme your lives with mine Ah why should I Not guiltlesse live and you not guilty die I am the man for whom these billowes dance My death shall purchase your deliverance Feare not to cease your feares but throw me in Alas my soule is burthen'd with my sin And God is just and bent to his Decree Which certaine is and cannot alter'd be I am proclaim'd a Traitor to the King Of heaven an earth The windes with speedy wing Acquaint the Seas The Seas mount up on high And cannot rest untill the Traytor die Oh cast me in and let my life be ended Let Death make Iustice mends which Life offended Oh let the swellinâ— waters me enbalme So shall the Waves be still and Sea be calme So said th' amazed Mariners grew sad New Love abstracted what old Feare did adde Love called Pity Feare call'd vengeance in Love view'd the Sinner Feare beheld the Sin Love cry'd out Hold for better sav'd than spil'd But Feare cry'd Kill O better kill than kill'd Thus plung'd with Passions they distracted were Betwixt the hopes and doubts of Love and Feare Some cry'd out Save if this foule deed we doe Vengeance that haunted him will haunt us too Others cry'd No May rather death befall To one that hath deserv'd to dye then all Save him sayes one Oh save the man that thus His dearest blood hath profer'd to save us No sayes another vengeance must have blood And vengeance strikes most hard when most withstood In fine say all Then let the Prophet die And we shall live For Prophets cannot lye Loth to be guilty of their owne yet loth To haste poore Ionahs death with hope that both Th' approching evils might be at once prevented With prayers and paines reutter'd reattented They try'd new wayes despairing of the old Love quickens courage makes the spirits bold They strove in vaine by toile to win the shore And wrought more hard than erâ—e they did before But now both hands and hearts begin to quaile For bodies wanting rest must faint and faile The Seas are angry and the waves arise Appeas'd with nothing but a Sacrifice Gods vengeance stormeth like the raging Seas Which nought but Ionah dying can appease Fond is that labour which attempts to free What Heaven hath bound by a divine decree Ionah must die Heaven hath decreed it so Ionah must die or else they all die too Ionah must die that from his Lord did flie The Lott determines Ionah then must die His guilty word confirmes the sacred Lott Ionah must die then if they perish not If Iustice then appoint since he must die Said they us Actors of â—is Tragedy We beg not Lord a warrant to offend O pardon blood-shed that we must intend Though not our hands yet shall our hearts be cleare Then let not stainlesse consciences beare The pond'rous burden of a Murders guilt Or pay the price of blood that must be spilt For 〈◊〉 deare Lord it is thine owne decree And we sad ministers of Iustice be Meditat. 5. BVt stay a while this thing would first be known Can Ionah give himselfe and not his owne That part to God and to his Countrey this Pertaines so that a slender third is his Why then should Ionah doe a double wrong To deale himselfe away that did belong The least unto himselfe or how could hee Teach this Thou shalt not kill if Ionah be His life 's owne Butcher What was this a deed That with the Calling he profest agreed The purblinde age whose workes almost divine Did meerely with the oyle of Nature shine That knew no written Law nor Grace nor God To whip their conscience with a steely rod How much did they abhorre so foule a fact When led by Natures glimpse they made an act Selfe-murderers should be deny'd to have The charitable honour of a Grave Can such doe so when Ionah does amisse What Ionas Isr'els Teacher and doe this The Law of Charity doth all forbid In this thing to doe that which Ionah did Moreo're in charity 't is thy behest Of dying men to thinke and speake the best The mighty Samson did as much as this And who dare say that Samson did amisse If heavens high Spirit whisper'd in his eare Expresse command to doe 't No wavering feare Drew backe the righteous Abram's armed hand From Isaacks death secur'd by heavens command ¶ Sure is the knot that true Religion tyes And Love that 's rightly grounded never dyes It seemes a paradoxe beyond beliefe That men in trouble should prolong reliefe That Pagans to withstand a
Can render to a dying man his health Our life on earth is like a thred of flax That all may touch and being roucht it craks ¶ As when an Archer shooteth for his sport Sometimes his shaft is gone sometimes 't is short Somtimes o' th left haÌ„d wide sometimes o' th right At last through often tryall hits the White So death sometimes with her uncertaine Rover Hits our Superiours and so shoots over Sometimes for change shee strikes the meaner sort Strikes our Inferiours and then comes short Sometimes upon the left hand wide shee goes And so still wounding some shee strikes our foes And sometimes wide upon the right hand bends There with Imperiall shafts she strikes our friends At length through often triall hits the White And so strikes us into Eternall night ¶ Death is a Kalender compos'd by Fate Concerning all men never out of Date Her dayes Dominicall are writ in blood She shewes more bad daies than she sheweth good She tels when dayes monthes termes expire Meas'ring the lives of mortals by her squire ¶ Death is a Pursivant with Eagles wings That knocks at poore mens door gates of Kings Worldling beware betime death sculks behind thee And as she leaves thee so will Iudgement find thee THE ARGVMENT Within the bowels of the Fish Ionah laments in great anguish God heard his pray'r at whose command The Fish disgorg'd him on the Land Sect 7. THen Ionah turn'd his face to heav'n and pray'd Within the bowels of the Whale and said I cry'd out of my balefull misery Vnto my God and he hath heard my cry From out the paunch of hell I made a noyse And thou hast answer'd me and heard my voyce Into the Deeps and bottome thou hast throwne me Thy Surges and thy Waves have past upon me Then Lord aid I from thy refulgent sight I am expell'd I am forsaken quite Nay'thelesse while these my wretched eyes remaine Vnto thy Temple will I looke againe The boystrous Waters compast me about My body threats to let her pris'ner out The boundlesse depth enclosed me almost dead The weeds are wrapt about my fainting head I liv'd on earth rejected at thine hand And a perpetuall pris'ner in the Land Yet thou wilt cause my life t' ascend at length From out this pit O Lord my God my Strength When as my soule was over-whelm'd and faint I had recourse to thee did thee acquaint With the condition of my woefull case My cry came to thee in thine holy Place Who so to Vanities themselves betake Renounce thy mercies and thy love for sake To thee I 'le sacrifice in endlesse dayes With voyce of thankes and ever-sounding praise I 'le pay my vowes for all the world records With one consent Salvation is the Lords But he whose word 's a deed whose breath 's a law Whose just command implies a dreadfull awe Whose Word prepar'd a Whale upon the Deepe To tend and wait for Ionah's fall and keepe His out-cast body safe and soule secure This very God whose mercy must endure When heaven earth when sea all things faile Disclos'd his purpose and bespake the Whale To redeliver Ionah to his hand Whereat the Whale disgorg'd him on the land Medita 7. I Well record a holy Father sayes He teaches to deny that faintly prayes The suit surceases when desire failes But whoso prayes with fervency prevailes For Prayr's the key that opes th' eternall gate And findes admittance whether earl ' or late It forces audience it unlockes the eare Of heavens great God though deafe it makes him heare Vpon a time Babel the worlds faire Queene Made drunk with choller and enrag'd with spleen Through fell disdaine derraigned war 'gainst them That tender homage to Ierusalem A maiden-fight it was yet they were strong As men of Warre The Battaile lasted long Much blood was shed an spilt on either side That all the ground with purple gore was dyde In fine a Souldier of Ierusalem Châ—â—â—ssa hight the Almner of the Realme Chill'd with an ague and unapt to fight Into Iustitia's Castle too her flight Whereat great Babets Queene commanded all To lay their siege against the Castle wall But poore Tymissa not with warr acquainted Fearing Charissa's death fell downe and fainted Dauntlesse Prudentia rear'd her from the ground Where she lay pale and senselesse in a swound She rub'd her temples and at length awaking She gave her water of Fidissa's making And said Cheare up deare sister though our foe Hath tane us Captives thus besieg'd with woe We have a King puissant and of might Will see us take no wrong and doe us right If we possesse him with our sad complaint Cheare up wee 'l send to him and him acquaint Tymissa new awak'd from swound replies Our Castle is begirt with enemies And troops of armed men besiege our walls Then suer Death or worse than death befalls To her who ere she be that stirs a foote Or rashly dares attempt to venture out Alas what hope have wee to finde reliefe And want the meanes that may divulge our griefe Within that place a jolly Matron dwell'd Whose lookes were fixt and sad her left hand held A paire of equall ballances her right A two-edg'd sword her eyes were quicke bright Not apt to squint but nimble to discerne Her visage lovely was yet bold and sterne â—â—r name Iustitia to her they make Their moane who well advis'd them thus bespake Faire Maidens more beloved then the light â—rue the suffrance of your wofull plight â—ut pitty's fond alone recures no griefe â—ut fruitlesse fals unlesse it yeeld reliefe Cheare up I have a Messenger in store Whose speed is much but faithfull trust is more Whose nimble wings shall cleave the flitting skies And scorne the terrour of your enemies â—ratio hight well knowne unto your King Your message she shall doe and tydings bring Provided that Fidissa travaile with her And so on Christs name let them goe together With that Fidissa having ta'ne her errant And good Oratio with Iustitia's Warrant In silence of the midnight tooke her flight Arriving at the Court that very night But they were both as flames of fier hot For they did fly as swift as Cannon shot But they left sudden cold should do them harme Together clung and kept each other warme But now the kingly gates were sparr'd and lockt They call'd but none made answer theÌ„ they knockt Together jâ—yning both their force in one They knockt againe Yet answer there was none But they that never learn'd to take deniall With importunity made further triall The King heard well although he list not speake Till they with strokes the gate did wel-nie breake In fine the brazen gates flew open wide Oratio moov'd her suit The King replide â—ratio was a faire and welcome guest So heard her suit so granted her request Fraile man observe In thee the practice lies Let sacred Meditation moralize Let Pray'r bee servent and thy Faith intire And
heaven at last will grant thee thy desire THE ARGVMENT The second time was Ionah sent To Niniveh now Ionah went Against her crying 〈…〉 cry'd And her destruction propâ—â—â—y'd Sect. 8. ONce more the voyce of heavens high-CoÌ„mander Like horrid claps of heav'ns-dividing thunder Or like the fall of waters breach the noise Bâ—ing heard farre distant off such was the voyce Came downe from heav'n to Ionah new-borne-MaÌ„ To re-baptized Ionah and thus began Am I a God Or art thou ought but Dust More than a man Or are my Lawes unjust Am I a God and shall I not command Art thou a man and dâ—r'st my Lawes withstand Shall I the motion of whose breath shall make Both earth and Sea and Hell and Heaven quake By thee fond man shall I be thus neglected And thy presumption scape uncorrected Thy faith hath sav'd thee Ionah Sin no more Lest worse things happen after than before Arise let all th' assembled pow'rs agree To doe th'Embassage I impose on thee Trifle no more and to avoid my sight Thinke not to baulke me with a second flight Arise and goe to Niniveh the great Where broods of Gentiles have ta'ne up their seat The great Queene regent mother of the Lâ—nd That multiplies in people like the sand Away with wings of time I 'le not essoyne thee Denounce these fiery Iudgements I enjoyne thee Like as a youngling that to schoole is sent Scarce weaned from his mothers blandishment Where he was cockerd with a stroking hand With stubborne heart denyes the just command His Tutor wils But being once corrected His home-bred stomack 's curb'd or quite ejected His crooked nature 's chang'd and mollifi'd And humbly seekes what stoutly he deny'd So Ionah's stout perverse and stubborne heart Was hardned once but when it felt the smart Of heav'ns avenging wrath it straight dissolv'd And what it once avoyded now resolv'd T' effect with speed and with a carefull hand Fully replenish'd with his Lords Command To Ninivâ—h he flyeth like a Roe Each step the other strives to overgoe And as an Arrow to the marke does flie So bent to flight flies he to Niniveh ¶ Now Niniveh a might Citie was Which all the Cities of the world did passe A Citie which o're all the rest aspires Like midnight Phoebe 'mongst the lesser fires A Citie which although to men was given Better beseem'd the Majestie of Heaven A City Great to God whose ample wall Who undertakes to mete with paces shall Bring Phoebus thrice to bed ere it be done Although with dawning Hesperus begun When Ionas hath approacht the City gate He made no stay to rest nor yet to bait No supple oyle his fainting head anoints Stayes not to bathe his weather-beaten joynts Nor smooth'd his countenance nor slick ' his skin Nor craved he the Hostage of an Inne To ease his aking bones with travell sore But went as speedy as he fled before The Cities greatnesse made him not refuse To be the trump of that unwelcome newes His tongue was great with But like thuÌ„ders noise His mouth flew ope and out there rusht a voyce When dewy-cheek't Aurora shall display Her golden locks and summon up the day Twice twenty times and rest her drowzy head Twice twenty nights in aged Tithons bed Then Niniveh this place of high renowne Shall be destroy'd and sackt and batterd downe He sate not downe to take deliberation What maner people were they or what Nation Or Gent ' or Salvage nor did he enquier What place were most convenient for a Cryer Nor like a sweet-lipt Orator did steare Or tune his language to the peoples eare But bold and rough yet full of Majesty Lift up his trumpet and began to cry When forty times Don Phoebus shall fulfill His Iournall course upon th' Olympian Hill Then Niniveh the Worlds great wonder shall Startle the Worlds foundation with her fall The dismall Prophet stands not to admire The Cities pompe or peoples quaint attire Nor yet with fond affection doth pity Th' approaching downfall of so brave a City But dauntlesse he his dreadfull voice extends Respectlesse whom this bolder cry offends When forty daies shall be expir'd and run And that poore Inch of time drawne out and done Then Niniveh the Worlds Imperiall throne Sall not be left a stone upon a stone Meditat. 8. BVt stay Is God like one of us Can he When he hath said it alter his Decree Can he that is the God of Truth dispence With what he vow'd or offer violence Vpon his sacred Iustice Can his minde Revolt at all or vary like the winde How comes this alteration then that He Thus limiting the' effect of his Decree Vpon the expiring date of forty daies He then performes it not But still delaies His plagues denounc't Iudgement stil forbeares And stead of forty dayes gives many yeares Yet forty dayes and Niniveh shall perish Yet forty yeares and Niniveh doth flourish A change in man's infirme in God 't is strange In God to change his Will and will a Change Are divers things When he repents from ill He wils a change he changes not his Will The subject's chang'd which secret was to us But not the mind that did dispose it thus Denounced Iudgement God doth oft prevent But neither changes counsell not intent The voyce of heâ—â—en doth seldome threat perdition But with expresse or an imply'd condition So that if Niniveh returne from ill God turnes his hand he doth not turne his Will ¶ The stint of Niniveh was forty dayes To change the By as of her crooked wayes To some the time is large To others small To some 't is many yeares And not at all To others Some an houre have and some Have scarce a minute of their time to come Thy span of life Malfidâ— is thy space To call for mercy and to cry for grace ¶ Lord what is man but like a worme that crawles Open to danger every foote that fals Death creepes unheard and steals abroad unseen Her darts are sudden and her arrowes keene Vncertaine when but certaine she will strike Respecting King and Begger both alike The stroke is deadly come it soone or late Which once being strucke repenting's out of date Death is a minute full of sudden sorrow Then live to day as thou maist die to morrow THE ARGVMENT The Ninivites beleeve the word Their hearts returne unto the Lord In him they put their onely trust They mourne is Sackcloth and in dust Sect. 9. SO said the Ninivites beleev'd the Word Beleeved Ionas and beleev'd the Lord They made no pause nor jested aâ— the newes Nor slighted it because it was a Iew 's Denouncement No nor did their gazing eyes As taken captive with such novelties Admire the strangers garb so quaint to theirs No idle chat possest their itching eares The whil'st he spake nor were their tongues on fier To raile upon or interrupt the Cryer Nor did they question whether true the message Or false the Prophet were that
heart and sucke thy blood Beware betimes lest custome and permission Prescribe a title and so claime possession ¶ Despairing man whose burthen makes thee stoop Vnder the terror of thy sinnes and droop Through dull despaire whose too too sullen griefe Makes heav'n unable to apply reliefe Whose eares are dull'd with noyse of whips and chaines And yels of damned soules through tort'red pains Come here and rouze thy selfe unâ—eele those eyes Which sad Despaire clos'd up Arise Arise And goe to Nineveh the worlds great Palace Earths mighty wonder and behold the Ballace And burthen of her bulke is nought but sin Which wilfull she commits and wallowes in Behold her Images her fornications Her crying sinnes her vile abominations Behold the guiltlesse blood that she did spill Like Spring-tides in the streets and reeking still Behold her scorching lusts and taint desier Like sulph'rous Aetna blaze and blaze up higher She rapes and rends and theeves there is none Can justly call the thing he hath his owne That sacred Name of God that Name of wonder In stead of worshipping she teares in sunder She 's not enthrall'd to this Sin or another But like a Leper's all infected over Not onely sinfull but in sinnes subjection Shee 's not infected but a meere infection No sooner had the Prophet Heav'ns great Spy Begun an onset to his lowder Cry But she repented sigh'd and wept and tore Her curious hayre and garments that she wore She sate in ashes and with Sack-cloth clad her All drencht in brine that griefe cannot be sadder She calls a Fast proclames a prohibition To man and beast sad tokens of contrition No sooner pray'd but heard No sooner groan'd But pittied No sooner griev'd but moan'd Timely Repentance speedy grace procur'd The sore that 's salvd in time is eas'ly cur'd No sooner had her trickling teares ore-flowne Her blubber'd cheeks but heav'n was apt to mone Her pensive heart wip'd her suffused eyes And gently strok'd her cheekes and bid her rise No faults were seene as if no fault had bin Deare Mercy made a Quittance for her sin ¶ Malfido rouze thy leaden spirit bestirre thee Hold up thy drouzy head here 's comfort for thee What if thy zeale be frozen hard What then Thy Saviours blood will thaw that frost agen Thy pray'rs that should be servent hot as fier Proceed but coldly from a dull desier What then Grieve inly But do not dismay Who heares thy pray'rs will give thee strength to pray Though left a while thou art not quite giv'n ore Where Sinne abounds there Grace abounâ—eth more This this is all the good that I can doe thee To ease thy griefe I here commend unto thee A little booke but a great Mystery A great delight A little History A little branch slipt from a saving tree But bearing fruit as great as great mought be A small abridgement of thy Lords great love A message sent from heaven by a Dove It is a heavenly Lecture that relates To Princes Pastors People all Estates Their sev'rall duties ¶ Peruse it well and binde it to thy brest The rests the Cause of thy defect of rest But read it often or else read it not Once read is not observ'd and soone forgot Nor is 't enough to read but understand Or else thy tongue for want of wit 's prophan'd Nor is 't enough to purchase knowledge by it Salve heales no sore unlesse the party ' apply it Apply it then which if thy flesh restraines Strive what thou canst pray for what remaines The particular Application ¶ THen thou that art opprest with sad Despaire Here shalt thou see the strong effect of pray'r Then pray with faith servent without ceasing Like Iacob wrestle till thou get a blessing ¶ Here shalt thou see the type of Christ thy Saviour Then let thy suits be through his name and favour ¶ Here shalt thou finde repentance and true griefe Of sinners like thy selfe and their beliefe Then suit thy griefe to theirs and let thy soule Cry mightily untill her wounds be whole ¶ Here shalt thou see the meeknesse of thy God Who on Repentance turnes and burnes the Rod Repents of what he purpos'd and is sorry Here may ye heare him stoutly pleading for ye Then thus shall be thy meed if thou repent In stead of plagues and direfull punishment Thou shalt find mercy love and Heav'ns applause And God of Heav'n himselfe will plead thy cause ¶ Here hast thou theÌ„ compil'd within this treasure First the Almighties high and just displeasure Against foule sinne or such as sinfull be Or Prince or poore or high or low degree ¶ Here is descri'd the beaten Road to Faith ¶ Here maist thou see the force that Preaching hath ¶ Here is describ'd in briefe but full expression The nature of a Convert and his passion His sober Dyet which is thin and spare His clothing which is Sack-cloth and his Prayre Not faintly sent to heaven nor spatingly But piercing â—ervent and a mighty cry ¶ Here maist thou see how Pray'r true repeÌ„tance Do strive with God prevaile and turn his sentence From strokes to stroking from plagues infernall To boundlesse Mercies and to life Eternall ¶ Till Zephyr lend my Barke a second Gale I slip mine Anchor and I strike my saile FINIS O dulcis Salvator Mundi ultima verba quae tu dixisti in Cruce sint ultima mea verba in Luce quando amplius effari non possum exaudi tu cordis mei desiderium A HYMNE to GOD. WHo gives me then an Adamantine quill A marble tablet And a Davids skill To blazon forth the praise of my deare Lord In deepe-grav'n Characters upon record To last for times etcâ—nall processe suer So long as Sunne and Moone and Starres endure Had I as many mouthes as Sands there are Had I a nimble tongue for every Starre And every word I speake a Character And every minutes time ten Ages were To chaunt forth all thy prayse it no'te availe For tongues words and time and all would faile Much lesse can I poore Weakling tune my tongue To take a taske befits an Angels song Sing what thou canst when thou canst sing no more Weepe then as fast that thou canst sing no more Beblurre thy booke with teares and go thy wayes For every blurre will prove a booke of prayse Thine eye that viewes the moving Spheares above Let it give praise to him that makes them move Thou riches hast Thy hands that hold have them Let them give praise to him that freely gave them Thine armes defend thee then for recompence Let them praise him that gave thee such defence Thy tongue was given to praise thy Lord the Giver Then let thy tongue praise highest God for ever Faith comes by hearing thy Faith will save thee TheÌ„ let thine cars prais him that hearing gave thee Thy bea rt is beg'd by him whose hands did make it My Sonne Give me thy Heart Lord freeâ—y take
Chap. 8. 2. 15. Secondly in the behaviour 〈◊〉 the Subject to his Prince in observing 〈◊〉 Lawes and discovering his enemies Châ—â— 2. 22. Thirdly the behaviour of a Subiect 〈◊〉 a Subject in mutuality of love Chap. 4. 7. 〈◊〉 propagation of peace Chap. 10. 3. 3. The Oeconomical part the object whâ—â—â— of is private Society teacheth first the 〈◊〉 riage of the Wife to her Husband in 〈◊〉 Chap. 1. 22. of the Husband to his Wife is ruling Chap. 1. 22. Secondly of a Father to his Childe in advising Chap. 2. 7 10. of a Childe to his Father in observing Chap. 2. 20. Thirdly of a Master to his Servant in commanding Chap. 4. 5. of a Servant to his Master in effecting his command Chap. 4. 6. Furthermore in this history the two principall faculties of the soule are nor in vaine imployed First the Intellect whose proper object is Truth Secondly the Will whose proper object is good whether Philosophicall which the great Master of Philosophy calls Wisedome or Theologicall which wee point at now hoping to enjoy hereafter Who the Pen-mâ—n of this sacred History was or why the name of God as in few other parts of the Bible is unmentioned in this it is immateriall and doubtfull For the first it is enough for anuncurious questioner to know it was indited by the Spirit of God for the second let it suffice that that Spirit will'd not here to reveale his name As for the Manner of this history consisting in the Periphrase the adjournment of the Story and interposition of Meditations I I hope it hath not injured the Matter For in this I was not the least carefull to use the light of the best Expositors not daring to goe un-led for feare of stumbling Some say Divinity in Verse is incongruous and unpleasing such I referre to the Psalmes of David or the Song of his sonne Salomon to bee corrected But in these lewd times the salt and soule of a Verse is obscene scurrility without which it seemes dull and livelesse And though the sacred History needs not as humane doe Poetry to perpetuate the remembrance being by Gods owne mouth blest with Eternity yet Verse working so neare upon the soule and spirit will oft times draw those to have a history in familiarity who perchance before scarce knew there was such a Booke Reader bee more than my hasty pen stiles thee Reade mee with advice and thereafter judge me and in that judgement censure me If I jangle thinke my intent thereby is to toâ—â— better Ringers in Farewell THE INTRODVCTION WHen Zedechia He whose haplesse hand Once held the Scepter of Great Iudahs Land Went up the Palace of Proud Babylon The Prince Serajah him attending on A dreadfull Prophet from whose blasting breath Came sudden death and nothing else but death Into Serajah's peacefull hand betooke The sad Contents of a more dismall Booke Breake ope the leaves those leaves so full of dread Read sonne of thunder said the Prophet reade Say thus say freely thus The Lord hath spoke it 'T is done the world 's unable to revoke it Woe woe and heavy woes ten thousand more Betide great Babylon that painted whore Thy buildings and thy â—ensive Towers shall Flame on a sudden and to cinders fall None shall be left to waile thy griefe with Howles Thy streets shall peopl'd be with Bats and Owles None shall remaine to call thy places voyd None to possesse nor ought to be enjoy'd Nought shall be left for thee to terme thine owne But helplesse ruines of a haplesse towne Said then the Prophet When thy language hath Empty'd thy Cheekes of this thy borrow'd Breath Close then the Booke and binde a stone unto it That done into the swift Euphrates throw it And let this following speech explane withall The Hieroglyphickâ— of proud Babels fall Thus thus shall Babel Thus shall Babels glory Of her destruction leave a Tragick story Thus thus shall Babell fall and none relieve her Thus thus shall Babel sinke Thus sinke for ever And falne she is Thus after-times made good That sacred Prophesie confirm'd in blood Great Royall Dreamer where is now that thing Thou so much vaunted'st of where O soveraigâ—â— King Is that great Babel that was rais'd so high To shew the highnesse of thy Majesty Where is thy Royall off-spring to succeed Thy Throne and to preserve thy Princely seed Till this time Sleeping how could'st thou foreâ—â—â— That thing which waking thou thoghtst ne'r would beâ— And thou Belshazzar full of youthfull fire Vnlucky Grand-child to a lucklesse Syre On thee the sacred Oracles attended For with thy life great Babels Kingdome ended What made thy Spirit tremble and thy hayre Bolt up what made thee fainting gaspe for ayre A simple Word upon a painted Wall What 's that to thee If ought what harme at all Could words affright thee O preposterous wit To feare the writing not the hand that writ The Hand that writ it selfe unseene did shroud Within the gloomy bosome of a Cloud The Hand that writ was bent nor bent in vaine To part the Kingdome and the King in twaine The Hand that writ did write the sentence downe And now stands armed to depose the Crowne The hand that writ did threaten to translate Thy Kingdome Babel to the Persian state Th' effect whereof did brooke no long delayes For when Belshazzar had spun out his dayes Soone cut by that Avengers fatall knife Proud Babels Empire ended with his life As when that rare Arabian Bird doth rest Her bedrid carkase in her Spicy nest The quick-devouring fire of heaven consumes The willing sacrifice in sweet perfumes From whose sad cinders balm'd in fun'rall spices A second Phoenix like the first arises So from the Ruines of great Babels Seat The Medes and Persians Monarchy grew great For when Belshazzar last of Babels Kings Yeelded to death the summe of mortall things Like earth-amazing thunder from above And lightnng from the house of angry Iove Or like to billowes in th' Euboean Seas Whose swelling nought but shipwrack can appease So bravely came the fierce Darius on Marching with Cyrus into Babylon Two Armies Royall stoutly following The one was Medes the other Persia's King As when the Harvester with bubling brow Reaping the intrest of his painfull Plough With crooked Sickle now a shock doth sheare A handfull here and then a handfull there Not leaving till he nought but stubble leave Here lies a new falne ranke and there a sheave Even so the Persian Host it selfe bestur'd So fell great Babel by the Persian Sword Which warm with slaughter with blood imbru'd Ne'r sheath'd till wounded Babel fell subdu'd But see These brave Ioynt-tenants that surviv'd To see a little world of men unliv'd Must now be parted Great Darius dyes And Cyrus shares alone the new-got prize He fights for Heaven Heavens foemen he subdues He builds the Temple he restores the Iewes By him was Zedechias force disjoynted Vnknowne to God he was yet Gods Anointed But
uncall'd will I repaire Howe'r my boldnesse shall his Lawes contraire And brauely welcome Death before mine eye And scorne her power If I dye I dye Meditat. 10. AS in the winged Common-wealth of Bees Whose carefull Summer-providence foresees Th' approching fruitlesse Winter which denies The crowne of labour some with laden thighs Take charge to beare their waxy burthens home Others receive the welcome load and some Dispose the waxe others the plot contrive Some build the curious Comb some guard the Hive Like armed Centinels others distreine The purer honey from the waxe some traine And discipline the young while others drive The sluggish Drones from their deserved Hive Thus in this Common-wealth untaught by Art Each winged Burger acts his busie part So man whose first creation did intend And chiefly pointed at no other end Then as a faithfull Steward to receive The Fine and quit-rent of the lives we live Must suit his deare indeavour to his might Each one must lift to make the burthen light Proving the power that his gifts afford To raise the best advantage for his Lord Whose substitute he is and for whose sake We live and breath each his account must make Or more or lesse and he whose power lacks The meanes to gather honey must bring waxe Five Talents double five two render foure Wher 's little little 's crav'd where much there 's more Kings by their Royall priviledge may do What unbefits a mind to search into But by the force of their prerogatives They cannot free the custome of their lives The silly Widow from whose wrinkled browes Faint drops distill through labour that she owes Her needy life must make her Audite too As well as Kings and mighty Monarks doe The world 's a Stage each mortall Acts thereon As well the King that glitters on the throne As needy beggers Heav'n Spectator is And markes who acteth well and who amisse ¶ What part befits me best I cannot tell It matters not how meane so acted well THE ARGVMENT Vnto the King Queene Ester goes He unexpected favour showes Demands her suit she doth request The King and Haman to a Feast Sect. 11. WHen as Queen Esters solemne 3. daies Fast Had feasted heaven with a sweet repast Her lowly bended body she unbow'd And like faire Titan breaking from a cloud She rose and with her Royall Robe she clad Her livelesse limmes and with a face as sad As griefe could paint wanting no Art to borrow A needlesse helpe to counterfeit a sorrow Softly she did direct her feeble pace Vnto the inner Court where for a space She boldly stood before the Royall Throne Like one that would but durst not make her mone Which when her princely husband did behold His heart relented Fortune helpes the bold And to expresse a welcome unexpected Forth to the Queene his Scepter he directed Whom now imboldned to approch secur'd In gracious termes he gently thus conjur'd What is 't Queene Ester would What sad request Hangs on her lips dwells in her doubtfull brest Say say my lifes preserver what 's the thing That lyes in the performance of a King Shall be deny'd Faire Queenâ— what e're is mint Vnto the moity of my Kingdome 's thine So Ester thus If in thy Princely eyes Thy loyall Servant hath obtain'd the prize Of undeserved favor let the King And Haman grace my this dayes-banquetting To crowne the dainties of his handmaids Feast Humbly devoted to so great a Guest The motion pleas'd and fairly well succeeded To willing minds no twice intreaty needed They came but in Queene Esters troubled face Robd of the sweetnesse of her wonted grace The King read discontent her face divin'd The greatnesse of some further suit behind Say say thou bountâ—ous harvest of my joyes Said then the King what dumpish griefe annoyes Thy troubled soule Speake Lady what 's the thing Thy heart desires By th' onour of a King My Kingdomes halfe requested I 'le divide To faire Queene Ester to my fairest Bride Lâ— then the tenour of my deare request Repli'd the Queene unto a second Feast Thy humble Suitor doth presume to bid The King and Haman as before she did Now therefore if it please my gracious Lord To daigâ—e his Royall presence and afford The peerlesse treasure of hiâ— Princeâ—y Grace To dry the sorrowes of his Handmaids face Then to my Kingly and thrice-welcome Guest His servant shall unbosome her Request Medita 11. HE that invites his Maker to a Feast Advising well the greatnesse of his Guest Must purge his dining chamber from infections And sweepe the Cobwebs of his lewd affections And then provide such Cates as most delight His Palate and best please his Appetite And such are holy workes and pious deeds These are the dainties whereon heaven feeds Faith plaies the Cook seasons directs and guides So man findes meate so God the Cooke provides His drinke are teares sprung from a midnight cry Heaven sips out Nectar from a sinners eye The dining chamber is the soule opprest God keepes his revells in a Sinners brest The musicke that attends the Feast are grones Deep-founding sighes and loud lamenting moneâ— Heav'n heares no sweeter musick than complaints The Fasts of sinners are the Feasts of Saints To which heav'n dains to stoop heav'ns hie King Descends whilst all the quire of Angels sing And with such sense-bereaving Sonets fill The hearts of wretched men that my rude quill Dazeld with too much light it selfe addressing To blaze them forth obscures theÌ„ in th' expressing Thrice happy man and thrice-thrice happy Feast Grac'd with the presence of so great a Guest To him are freely giv'n the privy keyes Of heav'n and earth to open when he please And locke when e're he liâ—t In him it lyes To ope the showring flood-gates of the skies Or shut them at his pleasure in his hand The Host of heaven is put if he command The Sunne not daring to withstand obeyes Out-runnes his equall howres flies back or stayes To him there 's nought uneasie to atchieve Hee le rouze the graves and make the dead alive ¶ Lord I 'me unfit t' invite thee to my home My Caâ—es are all too coorse too meane my Roome Yet come and welcome by thy pow'r Divine Thy Grace may turne my Water into Wine THE ARGVMENT Good Mordecai's unreverence Great Hamans haughty pride offends H'acquaints his wife with the offence The counsell of his wife and friends Sect. 12. THat day went Haman forth for his swolne brest Was fill'd with joyes and heart was full possest Of all the height Ambition could require To satisfie her prodigall Desire But when he passed through the Palace Gate His eye-sore aged Mardocheus sate With head unbar'd and stubborne knee unbenâ— Vnapt to fawne with slavish blandishment Which when great Haman saw his boyling brest So great disdaine unable to digest Ran o're his blood grew hot and new desires Incenst and kindled his avenging fires Surcharg'd with griefe and sick with male-content
God knew perhaps it were worse had than wanted Can God and Belial both joyne in one will The one to aske the other to fulfill Sooner shall Stygian darknesse blend with light The Frost with Fier sooner day with Night True God and Satan will'd the selfe-same Will But God intended Good and Satan Ill That Will produc'd a severall conclusion He aim'd at Mans and God at his confusion He that drew Light from out the depth of Shade And made of Nothing whatsoe're he made â—an out of seeming Evill bring good Events God worketh Good though by ill Instruments As in a Clocke one motion doth convay And carry divers wheeles a severall way Yet altogether by the great wheeles force Direct the hand unto his proper course Even so that sacred Will although it use Meanes seeming contrary yet all conduce To one effect and in a free consent They bring to passe heavens high decreed intent Takes God delight in humane weaknesse then What glory reapes he from afflicted men The Spirit gone can Flesh and Blood indure God burnes his Gold to make his Gold more pure Even as a Nurse whose childe 's imperfect pace Can hardly leade his foote from place to place Leaves her fond kissing sets him downe to goe Nor does uphold him for a step or two But when she findes that he begins to fall She holds him up and kisses him withall So God from man sometimes withdrawes his hand A while to teach his Infant faith to stand But when he sees his feeble strength begin To faile he gently takes him up againe Lord I 'm a childe so guide my paces than That I may learne to walke an upright man So shield my Faith that I may never doubt thee For I shall fall if e're I walke without thee THE ARGVMENT The frighted Mâ—ssengers tell Iob His foure-fold losse He rends his Roâ—e Submits him to his Makers trust Whom he concludeth to be just Sect. 3. VPon that very day when all the rest Were frollicke at their elder Brothers feaâ—t A breathlesse man prickt on with winged feare With staring eyes distracted here and there Like kindled Exhalations in the Aire At midnight glowing his stiffe-bolting haire Not much unlike the pennes of Porcupines Crossing his armes and making wofull signes Purboyl'd in sweat shaking his fearfull head That often lookt behinde him as he fled He ran to Iob still ne'rethelesse afraid His broken blast breath'd forth these words said Alas deare Lord the whiles thy servants ply'd Thy painfull Plough and whilest on every side Thy Asses fed about us as we wrought There sallyed forth on us suspecting nought Nor ought intending but our cheerfull paine A rout of rude Sabaeans with their Traine Armed with death and deafe to all our Cries Which with strong Hand did in an houre suprize All that thou hadst and whilest we strove in vaine To guard them their impartiall hands have slaine Thy faithfull Servants with their thirâ—ty Sword I onely scap't to bring this wofull word No sooner had he clos'd his lips but see Another comes as much agast as he A â—lash of fire said he new falne from heaven Hath all thy servants of their lives bereaven And burnt thy Sheâ—pe I I alone am he That 's left unslaine to bring the newes to thee This Tale not fully told a third ensues Whose lips in labour with more heavy Newes Brake thus The forces of a triple Band Brought from the fiâ—rce Caldaeans with strong haÌ„d Hath seiz'd thy Camels murther'd with the sword Thy servants all but me that brings thee word Before the aire had cool'd his hasty breath Rusht in a fourth with visage pale as Death The while said he thy children all were sharing Mirth at a feast of thy first Sonnes preparing Arose a Winde whose errand had more hast Than happy speed which with a full-mouth blast Hath smote the house which hath thy children reft Of all their lives and thou art childlesse left Thy children all are slaine all slaine together I onely scap't to bring the tidings hither So said Behold the man whose wealth did flow Like to a Spring-tide one bare houre agoe With the unpattern'd height of fortunes blest Above the greatest Dweller in the East He that was Syre of many sonnes but now Lord of much people and while-e're could show Such Herds of Cattell He whose fleecy stocke Of Sheepe could boast seven thousand in a flocke See how he lies of all his wealth dispoil'd He now hath neither Servant Sheepe nor Childe Like a poore man arose the patient Iob Stun'd with the newes and rent his purple Robe Shaved the haire from off his wofull head And prostrate on the floore he worshipped Naked ah Poore and naked did I come Fâ—rth from the closet of my mothers wombe And shall returne alas the very same To th' earth as poore and naked as I came God gives and takes and why should He not have A priviledge to take those things he gave We men mistake our Tenure oft for He Lends us at will what we miscall as Free He reassumes his owne takes but the same He lent a while Thrice blessed be his Name In all this passage Iob in heart nor Tongue Thought God unjust or charg'd his hand with wrong Medita 3. THe proudest pitch of that victorious spirit Was but to win the World whereby t'inheritâ— The ayrie purchase of a transitory And glozing Title of an ages Glory Would'st thou by conquest win more fame thaÌ„ He Subdue thy selfe thy selfe's a world to thee Earth's but a Ball that Heaven hath quilted o're With wealth and Honour banded on the floore Of fickle Fortunes false and slippery Court Sent for a Toy to make us Children sport Mans satiate spirits with fresh delights supplying To still the Fondlings of the world from crying And he whose merit mounts to such a Ioy Gaines but the Honour of a mighty Toy But would'st thou conquer have thy conquest crown'd By hands of Seraphins trimph'd with the sound Of heavens loud Trumpet warbled by the shrill Celestiall quire recorded with a quill Pluckt from the Pinion of an Angels wing Confirm'd with joy by heavens Eternall King Conquer thy selfe thy rebell thoughts repell And chase those false affections that rebell Hath Heaven dispoil'd what his full hand had giveÌ„ thee Nipt thy succeeding Blossomes or bereaven thee Of thy deare latest hope thy bosome Friend Doth sad Despaire deny these griefes an end Despair's a whispring Rebell that within thee Bribes all thy Field and sets thy selfe agin thee Make keene thy Faith and with thy force let flee If thou not conquer him hee 'll conquer thee Advance thy Shield of Patience to thy head And wheÌ„ griefe strikes t will strike the striker deadâ— The patient man in sorrow spies reliefe And by the taile he couples Ioy with Griefe In adverse fortunes be thou strong and stout And bravely win thy selfe Heaven holds not out His Bow for ever bent The disposition Of noblest spirits doth by
opposition Exasperate the more A gloomy night Whets on the morning to returne more bright A blade well triâ—d deserves a treble price And Vertu 's purest most oppos'd by Vice Brave mindes opprest should in despight of Faâ—â— Looke greatest like the Sunne in lowest state But ah shal God thus strive with flesh and blood Receives he Glory from or reapes he Good In mortals Ruine that he leaves man so To be or'ewhelm'd by his unequall Foe May not a Potter that from out the ground Hath fram'd a Vessell search if it be sound Or if by for bushing he take more paine To make it fairer shall the Pot complaine Mortall thou art but Clay Then shall not he That fram'd thee for his service season thee Man close thy lips Be thou no undertaker Of Gods designes Dispute not with thy Maker Lord 't is against thy nature to doe ill Then give me power to beare and worke thy Will Thou know'st what 's best make thou thine owne conclusion Be glorifi'd although in my confusion THE ARGVMENT Satan the second time appeares Before th' Eternall boldly dares Maligne Iobâ— tryed Faith afresh And gaines th'afflicting of his Flesh. Sect. 4. ONce more when heaveÌ„s harmonious queristers Appear'd before his Throne whose Ministers They are of his concealed will to render Their strict account of Iustice and to tender Th'accepted Sacrifice of highest praise Warbled in Sonnets and celestiall Layes Satan came too bold as a hungry Fox Or ravinous Wolfe amid the tender Flockes Satan said then th' Eternall from whence now Hath thy imployments driven thee whence com'st thou Satan replies Great God of heaveÌ„ earth I come from tempting and from making mirth To heare thy dearest children whine and roare In briefe I come from whence I came before Said then th' Eternall Hast thou not beheld My servants Faith how like a seven-fold shield It hath defended his integrity Against thy fiery Darts Hath not thine Eye Thine envious eye perceiv'd how puâ—ely just He stands and perfect worthy of the trust I lent into his hand persisting still Iust fearing God eschewing what is ill 'T was not the losse of his so faire a Flock Nor sudden rape of such a mighty Stock 'T was neither losse of Servants nor his Sonnes Vntimely slaughter acted all at once Could make him quaile or warpe so true a Faith Or staine so pure a Love say Satan hath Thy hand so deepely counterfeiting mine Made him mistrust his God or once repine Can there in all the earth say can there be A man so Perfect and so Iust as He Replyes the Tempter Lord an outward losse Hopes for repaire it 's but a common crosse I know thy servant's wise a wise forecast Grieves for things present not for things are past Perchance the tumour of his sullen heart Brookes losse of all since he hath lost a part My selfe have Servants who can make true boast They gave away as much as he hath lost Others which learning made so wisely mad Refuse such Fortunes as he never had A Faith 's not try'd by this uncertaine Tuch Others that never knâ—w thee did as much Lend mee thy Power then that I might once But Sacrifice his Flesh afflict his Bones And pierce his Hide but for a moments space Thy Darling then would curse thee to thy Face To which th' Eternall thus His body 's thine To plague thy fill withall I doe confine Thy power to her â—ists Afflict and teare His flesh at pleasure But his life forbeare Meditat. 4. BOth Goods and body too Lord who can stand Expect not Iobs uprightnesse at my hand Without Iobs aid The temper of my Passion Vntam'd by thee can brooke no Iobs Temptation For I am weake and fraile and what I can Most boast of proves me but a sinfull man Things that I should avoid I doe and what I am injoyn'd to doe that doe I not My Flesh is weake too strong in this alone It rules my spirit that should be rul'd by none But thee my spirit 's faint and hath beene never Free from the fits of fins quotidian Fever My pow'rs are all corrupt corrupt my Will Marble to good and Waxe to what is ill Eclipsed is my reason and my Wit By interposing Earth 'twixt Heaven and it My mem'ri's like a Scarce of Lawne alas It keepes things grosse and lets the purer passe What have I then to boast What Title can I challenge more than this A sinfull man Yet doe I sometimes feele a warme desire Raise my low Thoughs and dull affections higher Where like a soule entranc't my spirit flies Makes leagues with Angels and brings Deities Halfe way to heaven shakes hands with Seraphims And boldly mingles wings with Cherubims Frem whence I looke askauns adowne the earth Pity my selfe and loath my place of birth But while I thus my lower state deplore I wake and prove the wretch I was before Even as the Needle that directs the howre Toucht with the Loadstone by the secret power Of hidden Nature points upon the Pole Even so the wav'ring powers of my soule Toucht by the vertue of thy Spirit flee From what is Earth and point alone to Thee When I have faith to hold thee by the Hand I walke securely and me thinkes I stand More firme than Atlas But when I forsake The safe protection of thine Arme I quake Like wind-shakt Reeds and have no strength at all But as a Vine the Prop cut downe I fall Yet wretched I when as thy Iustice lends Thy glorious Presence from me straight am friends With Flesh and blood forget thy Grace flye froÌ„ it And like a Dog returne unto my vomit The fawning world to pleasure then invites My wandring eyes The flesh presents delights Vnto my yeelding heart which thinke those pleasures Are onely bus'nes now and rarest treasures Content can glory in whilst I secure Stoope to the painted plumes of Satans Lure Thus I captiv'd and drunke with pleasures Wine Like to a mad-man thinke no state like mine What have I then to boast what title can I challenge more than this A sinfull man â— feele my griefe so enough nor can I be â—edrest by any but Great God by thee â—oo great thou art to come within my Roofe â—ay but the word Be â—â—â—le and 't is enough â—ill then my tongue shall never 〈◊〉 mine Eyes â—â—e're cloze my lowly bended knees ne're rise â—ill then my soule shall ne're want early sobs My cheekes no teares my Pensive brest no throbs My hart shall lack no zeale nor tongue expressing â—le strive like Iacob till I get my Blessing Say then Be cleaâ—e I 'le never stop till then Heaven ne'r shall rest till Heaven shal say Amen THE ARGVMENT Iob smote with Vlcers groveling lyes Plung'd in a Gulfe of Miseries His Wife to blasphemy doth tempt him His three Friends visit and lament him Sect. 5. LIke as a Truant-Scholler whose delay Is worse than whipping having leave to play â—â—kes haste to bee inlarged from
's an Index to Eternity And gives a glance of what our cleerer eye In time shall see at large nothing's so slight Which in it nature sends not forth some light Or Memorandum of his Makers Glory No Dust so vile but pens an ample story Of the Almighties power nor is there that Which gives not man just cause to wonder at Cast down thine eies behold the pregnant earth Her selfe but one produceth at one birth A world of divers natures From a seed Entirely one things hot and cold proceed She suckles with one milke things moist and dry Yet in her wombe is no repugnancy Or shall thy reason ramble up so high To view the Court of wilde Astronomy Behold the Planets round about thine eares Whirling like firebals in their restlesse Spheares At one selfe-instant moving severall wayes Still measuring out our short and shorter dayes Behold the parts whereon the World consists Are limited in their appointed lists Without rebellion unapt to vary Though being many divers and contrary Looke where we list above bâ—neath or under Our eyes shall see to learne and learne to wonder Their depth shall drown our judgements and their height Besides his wits shal drive the prime coÌ„ceit Shall then our daring minds presume t' aspire To heavens hid Myst'ries shall our thoughts inquirâ— Into the depth of secrets unconfounded When in the shoare of Nature they were drowned Fond man be wise strive not above thy strength Tempt not thy Barke beyond her Cables length And like Prometheus filch no sacred fire Lest Eagles gripe thee Let thy proud desire Suit with thy fortunes Curious mindes that shall Mount up with Phaeton shall have Phaetons fall Vnbâ—nd thy bow betimes lest thou repent Too late for it will breake or else stand bent I 'le work at home ne'r crosse the scorching Line In unknowne lands to seeke a hidden Mine Plaine Bullion pleaseth me I not deâ—ire Deare Ignoâ—s from th'Elixars techy fire I 'le spend my paines where best I may be bold To know my selfe wherein I shall behold The world abridg'd and in that world my Maker Beyond which taske I wish no Vndertaker Great God by whom it is what-e're is mine Make me thy Viceroy in this World of thine So cleare mine eyes that I may comprehend My slight beginning and my sudden end THE ARGVMENT God questions Iob and proves that man Cannot attaine to things so high As divine secrets since he can Not reach to Natures Iobs reply Sect. 18. FOrth from the bosome of a murm'ring Cloud Heavens great â—ehovah did at length unshroud His Earths-amazing language equally Made terrible with Feare and Majesty Challeng'd the Duell he did undertake His grumbling servant and him thus bespake Who who art thou that thus dost pry in vaine Into my secrets hoping to attaine With murmuring to things conceal'd from man Say poreblinde mortall Who art thou that can Thus cleare thy crimes and dar'st with vaine applause Make me defendant in thy sinfull cause Ioe here I am Engrosse into thy hands Thy soundest weapons Answer my demands Say where wert thou when these my haÌ„ds did lay The worlds foundation canst thou tell me Say Was earth not measur'd by this Arme of mine Whose hand did ayde me was I help't by thine Where wert thou when the Planets fiâ—st did blaze And in their sphears sang forth their Makers praise Who is 't that tames the raging of the Seas And swathes them up in mists when e're he please Did'st thou divide the darknesse from the Light Or know'st thou whence Aurora takes her flight Didst ere enquire into the Seas Abysse Or mark'd the Earth of what a bulk she is Know'st thou the place whence Light or Darknesse springâ— Can thy deepe age unfold these secret things Knowâ—st thou the cause of Snow or haile which are My fierce Artill'ry in my time of warre Who is 't that rends the gloomy Clouds in sunder Whose sudden rapture strikes forth fire thunder Or who bedewes the earth with gentle showres Filling her pregnant soyle with fruits and flowres What father got the raine from what chill wombe Did frosts and hard-congealed Waters come Canst thou restraine faire Maja's course or stint her Or sad Orion ushering in the Winter Will scorching Cancer at thy summons come Or Sun-burnt Autumne with he fruitfull wombe Know'st thou Heavens course above or dost thou know Those gentle influences here below Who was 't inspir'd thy soule with understanding Aâ—d gave thy spirit the spirit of apprehending Dost thou command the Cisternes of the Skie To quench the thirsty soyle or is it I Nay let thy practice to the earth descend Prove there how farre thy power doth extend From thy full hand will hungry Lions eate Feed'st thou the empty Ravens that cry for meaâ—eâ— Sett'st thou the season when the fearfull Hind Brings forth her painfull birth Hast thou assign'd The Mountaine-Goate her Time Or is it I Canst thou subject unto thy soveraigntie The untam'd Vnicorne Can thy hard hand Force him to labour on thy fruitfull land Did'st thou inrich the Peacock with his Plume Or did â—hat Steele-digesting Bird assume His downy Flags from thee Didst thou endow The noble Stallion with his strength Canst thou Quaile his proud courage See his angry breath Puffes nothing forth but fearsâ— summ'd up in death Marke with what pride his horny hoofes doe tabor The hard resounding Earth with how great labour How little ground he spends But at the noyse And fierce Alar'm of the hoarse Trumpets voyce He breaks the ranks amidst a thousand Speares Pointed with death undaunted at the feares Of doubfull warre he rushes like a Ranger Through every Troop scorns so brave a dangerâ— Doe lofty Haggards cleave the flitting Ayre With Plumes of thy devising Then how dare Thy ravenous lips thus thus at randome runne And countermaund what I the Lord have done Thinkst thou to learne fond Mortall thus by diving Into my secrets or to gaine by striving Plead then No doubt but thine will be the Day Speake peevish Plaintiffe if th'aft ought to say Ioâ— then replyde Great God I am but Dust â—y heart is sinfull and thy hands are just I am a Sinner Lord my words are wind My thoughts are vaine Ah Father I have sinn'd Shall dust reply I spake too much before I le close these lips and never answer more Meditat. 18. O Glorious Light A light unapprehended By mortall eyes O Glory never ended Nor ere created whence all Glory springs In heavenly bodyes and in earthly things O power Immense derived from a Will Most just and able to doe all but ill O Essence pure and full of Majesty Greatnesse it selfe and yet no quantity Goodnesse and without quality producing All things from out of Nothing and reducing All things to nothing past all comprehending Boâ—h first and Last and yet without an ending Or yet beginning filling every Creature And not it selfe included above Nature Yet not excluded of it selfe subsisting And with it selfe
so foule Not to encrease the Tribe of Dan one soule LoÌ„g had she doubtles stroven with heaveÌ„ by prair's Made strong with teares sighs hopes despaires No doubt had often tortur'd her desire Vpon a Rack compos'd of frost and fire But Heaven was pleas'd to turne his deafned eares Against those prai'rs made stroÌ„g with sighs tears She often pray'd but pray'rs could not obtaine Alas she pray'd she wept she sigh'd in vaine She pray'd no doubt but pray'rs could finde no roome They prov'd alas as barren as her wombe Vpon a time when her unanswer'd pray'r Had now given just occasion of despaiâ—e Even when her bed-rid faith was grown so fraile That very Hope grew hartlesse to prevaile Appear'd an Angel to her In his face Terrour and sweetnesse labour'd for the place Sometimes his Sunbright eies would shine so fierce As if their pointed beames would even pierce Her soule and strike th' amaz'd beholder dead Sometimes their glory would disperse and spread More easie flames and like the Starre that stood O're Bethlem promise and portend some good Mixt was his bright aspect as if his breath Had equall errands both of life and death Glory and Mildnesse seemed to contend In his faire eyes so long till in the end In glorious mildnesse and in milder glory He thus salutes her with this pleasing story Woman Heaven greets thee well Rise up and feare 〈◊〉 Forbeare thy faithlesse tremblings I appeare not Clad in the vestments of consuming fire Cheare up I have no warrant to enquire Into thy sinnes I have no Vyals here Nor dreadfull Thunderbolts to make thee feare I have no plagues t' inflict nor is my breath Charg'd with destruction 〈◊〉 my hand with death No no cheare up I come not to destroy I come to bring thee tidings of great joy Rowze up thy duâ— beliefeâ— for I apâ—eare To exercise thy Faith and not thy Feare The Gâ—iae and great Creator of all things Chiefe Lord of Lords and supreme King of Kings To whom an Host of men are but a swarme Of â—urm'â—ing Guats whose high prevailing arme Can crush ten thousand worldâ— and at one blow Can strike the earth to nothing and ore-throw The Lofts of Heaven He that hath the Keyes Of 〈◊〉 to shut and ope them when he please He that can all things that he will this day Is pleas'd to take thy long reproach away Behold thy womb 's inlarg'd and thy desires Shall finde successe Before long time expires Thou shâ—lâ— conceive Ere twise five months be runne Be thou the joyfull mother of a sonne But see thy wary palate doe forbeare The juice of the bewitching Grape Beware Leâ—â— thy defiers tempt thy lips to wine Which must be faithfull strangers to the Vine Strong drinke thou must not taste and all such meate The Law proclaimes uncleane refraine to eate And when the fruit of thy restored wombe Sâ—â—ll see the light take heed no Rasor come 〈◊〉 his fruitfull head for from his birth 〈◊〉 as the wombe entrusts him on the earth The child shall be a Nazarite to God 〈◊〉 whose appointment be shall prove a Rod To scourge the proud Philistians and recall Pâ—re suffring Israel from their slavish thrall Meditat. 2. HOw impudent is Nature to account Those acts her own that doe so farre surmoâ—â—â— Her easie reach How purblinde are those eyes Of stupid mortals that have power to rise No higher then her lawes who takes upon her The worke and robs the Author of his honour Seest thou the fruitfull Wombe How every yeare It moves thy Cradle to thy slender cheare Invites another Ghest and makes thee Father To a new Sonne who now perchance hadst rather Bring up the old esteeming propagation A thanklesse worke of Supererogation Perchance the formall Mid-wife seemes to thee Lesse welcome now than she was wont to bee Thou standst amaz'd to heare such needlesse Ioy And car'st as little for it as the Boy That 's newly borne into the world Nay worse Perchance thou grumblest counting it a curse Vnto thy faint estate which is not able T' encrease the bounty of thy slender Table Poore miserable man what ere thou bee I suffer for thy crooked thoughts not thee Thou tak'st thy children to be gifts of nature Their wit their flowring beauty comely stature Their perfect health their dainty disposition Their vertues and their easie acquisition Of curious Arts their strengths attain'd perfection You attribute to that benigne complexion Wherewith your Goddesse Nature hath endow'd Their well-disposed Organs and are proud And here your Goddesse leaves you to deplore That such admir'd perfections should be poore Advance thine eyes no lesse then wilfull blinde And with thine eyes advance thy drooping minde Correct thy thoughts Let not thy wondring eye Adore the servant when the Master 's by Looke on the God of Nature From him come These underprized blessings of the wombe He makes thee rich in childreÌ„ wheÌ„ his store Crowns thee with wealth why mak'st thou thy self poor He opes the womb why then should'st thou repine They are his children mortall and not thine We are but Keepers And the more he lends To our tuition he the more commends Our faithfull trust It is not every one Deserves that honour to command his Son She counts it as a fortune that 's allow'd To nurse a Prince What nurse would not be proud Of such a Fortune And shall we repine Great God to foster any Babe of thine But 't is the Charge we feare our stock 's but small If heaven with Children send us wherewithall To stop their craving stomacks then we care not Great God! How hast thou crackt thy credit that we dare Trust thee for bread How is 't we dare not venture To keepe thy Babes unlesse thou please to enter In bond for paiment Art thou growne so poore To leave thy famisht Infants at our doore And not allow them food Canst thou supply The empty Ravens and let thy children die Send me that stint thy wisedome shall thinke fie Thy pleasure is my will and I submit Make me deserve that honour thou hast lent To my fraile trust and I will rest content THE ARGVMENTâ— Thâ— wife â— Manoah attended with fearfull Hope and hâ—pefull Feare The joyfull tydings recommended to her amazed Husbands care Sect. 2. THus when the great Embassadour of Heaven Had done that sacred service which was given And trusted to his faithfull charge he spred His ayre dividing pinions and fled But now th' affrighted woman apprehends The strangenesse of the Message recommends Both it and him that did it to her feares The newes was welcome to her gratefull eares But what the newesman was did so encreaâ—e Her doubts that her strange hopes could finde no peace For when her hopes would build a Tower of joy O then her feares would shake it and destroy The maine foundation what her hopes in vaine Did raise her feares would ruinate againe One while she thought It was an Angel sent And then
makes His God of counsell where he undertakes How is our God and wee of late falne out We rather chuse to languish in our doubt Then be resolv'd by him We rather use The helpe of hell-bred wizzards that abuse The stile of wise menâ— then to have recourse To him that is the Fountaine and the sourse Of all good Counsels and from whom proceeds A living Spring to water all our needs How willing are his Angels to descend From off their throne of Glory and attend Vpon our wants How oft returne they back Mourning to heaven as if they griev'd for lack Of our imployment O how prone are they To be assistant to us every way Have wee just cause to joy They 'll come and sing About our beds Does any judgement bring Iust cause of griefe they 'll fall a grieving too Doe we triumph their joyfull mouthes will blow Their louder Trumpets Or doe feares affect us They 'l guard our heads from danger protect us Are we in prison or in Persecution They 'l fill our hearts with joy and resolution Or doe we languish in our sickly beds They 'l come pitch their Tents about our heads See they a sinner penitent and mourne For his bewail'd offences and returne They clap their hands and joyne their warbling voyces They sing and all the Quire of Heaven rejoyces What is in us poore Dust and Ashes Lord That thou should'st looke upon us and afford Thy precious favours to us and impart Thy gracious Counsels what is our desert But Death and Horror What can we more clame Then they that now are scorching in that flame That hath nor moderation rest nor end How does thy mercy above thought extend To theÌ„ thou lov'st Teach me great God to prize Thy sacred Counsels open my blinde eyes That I may see to walke the perfect way For as I am Lord I am apt to stray And wander to the gulph of endlesse woe Teach me what must be done and helpe to doe THE ARGVMENT Manoah desires to understand but is deny'd the Angels name He offers by the Angels hand the Angel vanishes in a flame Sect. 5. SO said The sonne of Israel easly apt To credit what his soule desir'd and rapt With better hepes which serv'd him as a guide To his beliefe o'rejoy'd he thus replide Let not the man of God whose Heavenly voyce Hath blest mine eare and made my soule rejoyce Beyond expression now refuse to come Within my Tent and honour my poore home With his desired presence there to taste His servants slender diet and repast Vpon his Rurall fare These hands shall take A tender Kidde from out the flockes and make Without long tarriance some delighfull meate Which may invite the man of God to eate Come come my Lord and what defect of food Shall be thy servants welcome shall make good Whereto the Angel who as yet had made Himselfe unknowne reanswer'd thus and said Excuse me Though thy hospitable love Prevaile to make me stay it cannot move My thankfull lips to taste thy liberall cheare Let not thy bounty urge in vaine Forbeare To strive with whom thy welcome cannot leade To eate thy Kid or tast thy profer'd bread Convert thy bounty to a better end And let thy undefiled hands commend A burnt oblation to the King of Kings 'T is he deserves the thanks his servant brings But that bare message which his lips enjoyne His be the glory of the Act not mine Said then the Israelite If my desire Be not too over-rash but may conspire With thy good pleasure let thy servants eare Be honourd with thy name that whensoere These blessed tidings that possesse my heart With firme beleefe shall in due time impart Their full perfection and desir'd successe To my expecting eye my soule may blesse The tongue that brought the message and proclaime An equall honour to his honour'd name To whom the Angell whose severer brow Sent forth a frowne made answere Doe not thou Trouble thy busie thoughts with things that are Above thy reach Enquier not too farre My name is cloath'd in mists 'T is not my taske To make it knowne to thee nor thine to aske With that the Danite tooke a tender Kid And said my Lord The Tribe of Dan's forbid To burne an offering Onely Levites may And holy Prophets If thou please to lay The sacrifice on yonder sacred Stone I 'le fetch thee fire for fier there is none Forheare thy needlesse paines the Angell said Heaven will supply that want With that he laid The offering on and from the stone there came A sudden fire whose high ascending flame Burnt and consum'd th'accepted Sacrifice Now whilst th' amaz'd beholders wondring eyes Were taken Captives with so strange a sight And whilst the new-wrought miracle did affright Their treÌ„bling harts the Man of God whose name Must not b'inquired vanisht in the flame And left them both unable to expound Each others feares both groveling on the ground Meditat. 5. A Thankfull heart hath earnd one favour twice But he that is ungratefull wants no vice The beast that onely lives the life of Sense Prone to his severall actions and propense To what he does without th' advice of will Guided by nature that does nothing ill In practicke Maximes proves it a thing hatefull T' accept a Favoâ—r and to live ungratefull But man whose more diviner soule hath gain'd A higher step to reason nay attain'd A higher step then that the light of grace Comes short of them and in that point more base Then they most prompt and perfect in that rude Vnnaturall and high sinne Ingratitude The Stall-fed Oxe that is growne fat will know His carefull feeder and acknowledge too The prouder Stallion will at length espie His Masters bounty in his Keepers eye The ayre-dividing Faulkon will requite Her Faulkners paines with a well pleasing flight The generous Spaniell loves his Masters eye And licks his fingers though no meate be by But Man ungratefull Man that 's borne and bred By Heavens immediate pow'r maiâ—tain'd and fed By his providing hand observ'd attended By his indulgent grace preserv'd defended By his prevailing arme this Man I say Is more ungratefull more obdure than they By him we live and move from him we have What blessings he can give or we can crave Food for our hunger Dainties for our pleasure Trades for our buisnes Pastimes for our leasure In griefe he is our Ioy in want our Wealth In bondage Freedome and in sicknesse Health In peace our Counsell and in warre our Leader At Sea our Pilot and in Suites our Pleader In paine our Helpe in Triumph our Renowne In life our Comfort and in death our Crowne Yet Man O most ungratefull Man can ever Enjoy the Gift but never mindâ— the Giver And like the Swine though pamper'd with enough His eyes are never higher than the Trough We still receive our hearts we seldome lift To heaven but drowne the giver in the Gift We taste the
Skollops and returne the Shels Our sweet Pomgranats want their silver Bells We take the Gift the hand that did present it We oft reward forget the Friend that sent it A blessing given to those will not disburse Some thanks is little better then a curse Great giver of all blessings thou that art The Lord of Gifts give me a gratefull heart O give me that or keepe thy favours from me I wish no blessings with a Vengeance to me THE ARGVMENT Affrighted Manoah and his Wife Both prostrate on the naked earth Both rise The man despaires of life The woman cheares him Samsons birth Sect. 6. WHen time whose progresse mod'rates and out weares Th' extreamest passions of the highest fears By his benignant power had re-inlarg'd Their captive senses and at length discharg'd Their frighted thoughts the trembling couple rose From their unquiet and disturb'd repose Have you beheld a Tempest how the waves Whose unresisted Tyranny out-braves And threats to grapple with the darkned Skies How like to moving Mountaines they arise From their distempred Ocean and assaile Heav'ns Battlements nay when the windes dâ—e faile To breathe another blast with their owne motion They still are swelling and disturbe the Ocean Even so the Danite and his trembling wife Their yet confused thoughts are still at strife In their perplexed brests which entertain'd Continued feares too strong to be refrain'd Speechlesse they stood till Manoah that brake The silence first disclos'd his lips and spake What strange aspect was this that to our sight Appear'd so terrible and did affright Our scattering thoughts What did our eyes behold I feare our lavish tongues have bin too bold What speeches past betweene us Can'st recall The words we entertain'd the time withall It was no man It was no flesh and blood Me thought mine eares did â—ngle while he stood And commun'd with me At each word be spake Me thouâ—ht my heart recoil'd his voyce did shake My very Soule but when as he became So angry and so dainty of his name O how my wonder-smitteâ— heart began To faile O then I knâ—w it was no man No no It was the face of God Our eyes Have seene his face who ever saw 't but dies We are but dead Death dwells within his eye And we have seen 't and we shall surely die Where to the woman who did either hide Or else had overcome her feares replide Despairing Man take courage and forbeare These false predictions there 's no cause of feare Would Heaven accept our offerings and receive Our holy things and after that bereive His servants of their lives Can he be thus Pleas'd with our offerings unappeas'd with us Hath he not promis'd that the time shall come Wherein the fruits of my restored wombe Shall make thee father to a hopefull Sonne Can Heaven be false Or can these things be done When we are dead No no his holy breath Had spent in vaine if they had meant our death Recall thy needlesse feares Heaven cannot lye Although we saw his face we shall not dye So said they brake off their discourse and went He to the field and she into her Tent Thrice forty dayes not full compleat being come Within th'enclosure of her quickned wombe The Babe began to spring and with his motion Confirm'd the faith and quickned the devotion Of his beleeving parents whose devout And heaven-ascending Orizans no doubt Were turn'd to thanks and heart-rejoycing praise To holy Hymnes and heavenly Roundelaies The childe growes sturdy Every day gives strength Vnto his wombe-fed limmes till at the length Th'apparent mother having past the date Of her accompt does only now awaite The happy houre wherein she may obtaine Her greatest pleasure with her greatest paine When as the faire directresse of the night Had thrice three times repar'd her wained light Her wombe no longer able to retaine So great a guest betraid her to her paine And for the toilsome worke that she had done She found the wages of a new borne Sonne 〈◊〉 she call'd his name the childe encreast And hourely suckt a blessing with the brest Daily his strength did double He began To grow in favour both with God and Man His well attended Infancy was blest With sweetnesse in his Childhood he exprest True seeds of honour and his youth was crown'd With high and brave adventures which renown'd His honour'd name His courage was suppli'd With mighty strength His haughty spirit defide And hoast of men His power had the praise â—ove all that were before or since his dayes And to conclude Heav'n never yet conjoyn'd So strong a body with so stout a minde Meditat. 6. HOw pretious were those blessed dayes wherein Soules never startled at the name of Sin When as the voyce of death had never yet A mouth to open or to clame a debt When bashfull nakednesse forbare to call For needlesse skins to cover shame withall When as the fruit-encreasing earth obay'd The will of Man without the wound of spade Or helpe of Art When he that now remaines A cursed Captive to infernall chaines Sate singing Anthems in the heavenly Quire Among his fellow Angels When the Bryer The fruitlesse Bramble the fast growing weed And downy Thistle had as yet no seed When labour was not knowne and man did eate The earths faire fruits unearned with his sweate When wombs might have conceiv'd without the stain Of sin and brought forth children without paine When Heaven could speak to mans unfrighted eare Without the sense of Sin-begotten feare How golden were those dayes How happy than Was the condition and the State of man But Man obey'd not And his proud desire Cing'd her bold feathers in forbidden fire But Man transgrest And now his freedome feeles A sudden change Sinne followes at his heeles The voice calls Adam But poore Adam flees And trembling hides his face behind the trees The voice whilere that ravisht with delight His joyfull eare does now alas affright His wounded conscience with amaze and wonder And what of late was musicke now is Thunder How have our sinnes abus'd us and betrai'd Our desperate soules What strangenes have they made Betwixt the great Creator and the worke Of his owne hands How closely doe they lurke To our distempred soules and whisper feares And doubts into our frighted hearts and eares Our eyes cannot behold that glorious face Which is all life unruin'd in the place How is our nature chang'd That very breath Which gave us being is become our death Great God! O whither shall poore mortalls flie For comfort If they see thy face they dye And if thy life-restoring count'nance give Thy presence from us then we cannot live How necessary is the ruine than And misery of sin-beguiled Man On what foundation shall his hopes relie See wee thy face or see it not we dye O let thy Word great God instruct the youth And frailty of our faith Thy Word is truth And what our eyes want power to perceive O let our
feares 'T is well But they that doe Attempt to ruine me will ransacke you First you shall firmely engage your plighted trâ—th By the acceptance of a sacred â—ath That when I shall be pris'ner to your bands I may not suffer violence by your hands With that they drawing nearer to him laid Their hands beneath his brawny thigh and said Then let the God of Iacob cease to blesse The tribe of Iudah with a faire successe In ought they put their cursed hand unto And raze their seed If we attempt to doe Bound Samson violence And if this curse Be not sufficient heaven contrive a worse With that the willing prisoner joyn'd his hands To he subjected to their stronger bands With treble twisted cords that never tried The twitch of strength their busie fingers tied His sinewy wrists which being often wound About his beating pulse they brought him bound To the forefront of the Philistian band And left him captive in their cursed hand Meditat. 17. O What a pearle is hidden in this field Whose orient luster and perfections yeeld So great a treasure that the Easterne Kings With all the wealth their colder Climate brings Nere saw the like It is a pearle whose glory Is the diviner subject of a story Pend by an Angels quill not understood By the too dull conceit of flesh and bloud Vnkinde Iudeans what have you presented Before your eyes O what have you attented He that was borne on purpose to release His life for yours to bring your Nation peace To turne your mournings into joyfull Songs To fight your Battells to revenge your wrongs Even him alas your cursed hands have made This day your prisoner Him have you betraid To death O he whose snowy arme had power To crush you all to nothing and to shower Downe strokes like thunderbolts whose blasting breath Might in a moment puft you all to death And made ye fall before his frowning Brow See how he goes away betraid by you Thou great Redeemer of the world whose bloud Hath power to save more worlds than Noahs floud Destroyed bodies thou O thou that art The Samson of our soules How can the heart Of man give thankes enough that does not know How much his death-redeemed soule does owe To thy deare merits We can apprehend No more than flesh and bloud does recommend To our confined thoughts Alas we can Conceive thy love but as the love of man We cannot tell the horror of that paine Thou bought us from nor can our hearts attaine Those joyes that thou hast purchas'd in our name Nor yet the price thou paidst our thoughts are laÌ„e And craz'd Alas things mortall have no might No meanes to comprehend an Infinite We can behold thee cradled in a Manger In a poore Stable We can see the danger The Tetrarch's fury made thee subject to We can conceive thy poverty We know Thy blessed hands that might bin freed were bouÌ„d We know alas thy bleeding browes were crown'd With pricking thorne Thy body torne with whips Thy palmes impeirc'd with ragged nailes Thy lips Saluted with a Traitors kisse Thy browes Sweating forth bloud Thy oft repeated blowes Thy fastning to the crosse Thy shamefull death These outward tortures all come underneath Our dull conceits But what thy blessed soule That bore the burden of our guilt and Scroule Of all our sinnes and horrid paines of Hell O what that soule endur'd what soule can tell THE ARGVMENT He breakes their bands And with a bone A thousand Philistians he slue Hee thirsted fainted made his moane To Heaven He drinkes his spirits renew Sect. 18. THus when the glad Philistians had obtain'd The summe of all their hopes they entertain'd The welcome pris'ner with a greater noise Of triumph than the greatnesse of their joyes Required Some with sudden death would greet The new come Guest whilst others more discreet With lingring paines and tortures more exact Would force him to discover in the Fact Who his Abettors were others gainsaid That course for feare a rescue may be made â—ome cry ' T is fittest that th' Offender bleed 〈◊〉 where his cursed hands had done the deed Others cryed No where Fortune hath consign'd him Wee 'le kill him Best to kill him where we finde him Thus variously they spent their doubtfull breath At last they all agreed on sudden death There 's no contention now but onely who Shall strike the first or give the speeding blow Have ye beheld a single thred of flax Touch'd by the fire how the fire crackes With ease and parts the slender twine in sunder Even so as the first arme began to thunder Vpon the Prisners life he burst the bands From his strong wrists freed his loosned hands He stoop'd from off the bloud-expecting grasse He snatcht the crooked jaw-bone of an Asse Wherewith his fury dealt such downe-right blowes So oft redoubled that it overthrowes Man after man And being ring'd about With the distracted and amazed rout Of rude Philistians turn'd his body round And in a circle dings them to the ground Each blow had proofe for where the jaw-bone mist The furious Champion wounded with his fist Betwixt them both his fury did uncase A thousand soules which in that fatall place Had left their ruin'd carkeises to feast The flesh-devouring fowle and rav'nous beast With that the Conquerour that now had fed And surfeited his eye upon the dead His hand had slaine sate downe and having flung His purple weapon by triumpht and sung SAmson rejoyce Be fill'd with mirth Let all Iudea know And tell the Princes of the earth How strong an arme hast thou How has thy dead enricht the land And purpled ore the grasse That hadst no weapon in thy hand But the jaw-bone of an Asse How does thy strength and high renowne The glory of men surpasse Thine arme has strucke a thousand downe With the jaw-bone of an Asse Let Samsons glorious name endure Till Time shall render One Whose greater glory shall obscure The glory thou hast wone His song being ended rising from the place Whereon he lay he turn'd his ruthlesse face Vpon those heapes his direfull hand had made And op'ning of his thirsty lips he said Great God of conquest thou by whose command The heart received courage and this hand Strength to revenge thy quarrels and fulfill The secret motion of thy sacred will That shall thy Champion perish now with thirst Thou knowst I have done nothing but what first Was warranted by thy command 'T was thou That gave my spirit boldnesse and my brow A resolution 'T is mine arme did doe No more than what thou didst enjoyne me to And shall I die for thirst O thou that sav'd Me from the Lyons rage that would have rav'd Vpon my life by whom I have subdu'd Thy cursed enemies and have imbru'd My heaven-commanded hands in a spring-tyde Of guilty bloud Lord shall I be denyde A draught of cooling water to allay The tyranny of my thirst I that this day Have
glorious Conquerour is now afraid His conscious heart is smitten with his sinne He cannot chuse but feare and feare agin He feares and now the terrible alarmes Of sinne doe call him from th'unlawfull armes And lips of his luxurious Concubine Bids him arise from dalliance and resigne The usurpation of his luke-warme place To some new sinner whose lesse dangerous case May lend more leisure to so soule a deed Samson with greater and vnwonted speed Leapes from his wanton bed his feares doe presse More haste to cloath than lust did to undresse He makes no tarryance but with winged hast Bestrides the streets and to the gates he past And through the armed troupes he makes his way Beares gates and barres and pillers all away So scap'd the rage of the Philistian band That still must owe his ruine to their land Medit. 19. HOw weake at strongest is poore flesh blood Samson the greatnes of whose power withstood A little world of armed men with death â—ust now be foyled with a womans breath The mother sometimes lets her infant fall To make it hold the surer by the wall God lets his servant often goe amisse That he may turne and see how weake he is David that found an overflowing measure Of heavens high favours and as great a treasure Of saving grace and portion of the Spirit As flesh and bloud was able to inherit Must have a fall to exercise his feares And make him drowne his restles couch with tears Wise Salomon within whose heart was planted The fruitfull stockes of heavenly wisdome wanted Not that whereby his weakenesse understood The perfect vanity of flesh and bloud Whose hand seem'd prodigall of his Isaacs life He durst not trust Gods providence with his wife The righteous Lâ—t had slidings Holy Paul He had his pricke and Peter had his fall The sacred Bride in whose faire face remaines The greatest earthly beauty hath her staines If man were perfect land entirely good He were not man he were not flesh and blood Or should he never fall he would at length Not see his weakenesse and presume in strength Ere children know the sharpnesse of the Edge They thinke their fingers have a priveledge Against a wound but having felt the knife A bleeding finger sometime saves a life Lord we are children our sharpe-edg'd knives Together with our bloud le ts out our lives Alas if we but draw them from the sheath They cut our fingers and they bleed to death Thou great Chirurgion of a bleeding soule Whose soveraigne baulme is able to make whole The deepest wound Thy sacred salve is sure We cannot bleed so fast as thou canst cure Heale thou our wounds that having salv'd the sore Our hearts may feare and learne to sinne no more And let our hands be strangers to those knives That wound not fingers onely but our lives THE ARGVMENT He falls in league with Delila The Nobles bribe her to discover Her Samsons strength and learne the way To binde her arme-prevailing Lover Sect. 20. NOt farre from Azza in a fruitfull Valley Close by a brooke whose silver streams did daâ—ley â—ith the smooth bosome of the wanton sands â—hose winding current parts the neighbring lands And often washes the beloved sides â—her delightfull bankes with gentle tydes â—â—re dwelt a Beauty in whose Sunne-bright eye 〈◊〉 sate in thron'd and full of Majestie 〈◊〉 forth such glorious eye-surprizing rayes 〈◊〉 she was thought the wonder of her dayes 〈◊〉 name was called Delila the faire â—â—ther did amorous Samson oft repaire 〈◊〉 with the piercing flame of her bright eye 〈◊〉 so long that like a wanton flye 〈◊〉 â—urnt his lustfull wings and so became 〈◊〉 slavish prisner to that conquering flame She askt and had There 's nothing was too high For her to beg or Samson to denie Who now but Delila What name can raise And crowne his drooping thoughts but Delila's All time 's mispent each houre is cast away That 's not imploy'd upon his Delila Gifts must be given to Delila No cost If sweetest Delila but smile is lost No ioy can please no happinesse can crowne His best desires if Delila but frowne No good can blesse his amorous heart but this Hee 's Delila's and Delila is his Now when the louder breath of fame had blowne Her newes-proclaiming Trumpet made knowne This Lovers passion to the joyfull eares Of the cow'd Philistines their nimble feates Advis'd their better hopes not to neglect So faire advantage which may bring t' effect Their best desires and right their wasted Land Of all her wrongs by a securer hand With that some few of the Philistian Lords Repaire to Delila with baited words They tempt the frailty of the simple maid And having sworne her to their counsell said Faire Delila Thou canst not chuse but know The miseries of our land whose ruines show The danger whereinto not we but all If thou deny they helpefull hand must fall Those fruitfull fields that offer'd but of late Their plenteous favours to our prosperous state See how they lie a ruinous heape and void Of all their plenty wasted and destroyde Our common foe hath sported with our lives Hath slaine our children and destroy'd our wives 〈…〉 poore distressed land doth grone Vnder that mischiefe that his hands have done â—â—dowes implore thee and poore Orphans tongues â—all to faire Delila to right their wrongs 〈◊〉 lies in thee to help Thy helpefull hand May haâ—e the Glory to revenge thy land For which our thankefull Nation shall allow Not onely honour but reward and thou From every hand that 's present here shall gaine 〈◊〉 a thousand Sicles for thy paine To whom faire Delila whom reward had tied To satisfie her owne desires replied My Lords My humble service I acknowledge due 〈◊〉 to my native country next to you If Heaven and Fortune have enricht my hand With so much power to relieve our Land When ere your honours please to call me to it 〈◊〉 Delila shall die or doe it Say then my Lords wherein my power may doe This willing Service to my land or you Thou knowest say they No forces can withstand The mighty strength of cursed Samsons hand 〈◊〉 ruines Armies and does overthrow 〈◊〉 greatest Bands nay kingdomes at a blow The limits of his more then manly powers Are not confin'd nor is his Arme like ours His strength is more then man his conquering Arme Hath sure th' assistance of some potent charme 〈◊〉 nothing but the glory of thine eyes Wherein a farre more strong enchantment lies 〈◊〉 overthrow He 's prisoner to thine eye 〈◊〉 canst thou aske what Samson can deny 〈◊〉 sweetnesse of thy language hath the Art To dive into the secrets of his heart Move Samson then unbarre his bolted brest And let his deafned eares attaine no rest Vntill his eye-inchanted tongue replyes And tells thee where his hidden power lyes Vrge him to whisper in thy private â—are And to repose his magicke mystr'y there How by what meanes
his strength may be betray'd To bâ—nds and how his power may be allaid That we may right these wrongs which his proud hand Hath rudely offer'd to our ruinous land In this thou shalt obtaine the reputation To be the sole redeemer of thy Nation Whose wealth shall crowne thy loyalty with a meed Due to the merits of so faire a deed Whereto faire Delila whose heart was tyed To Samsons love for her owne ends replied My honourable Lords If my successe In these your just imployments prove no lesse Then my desiers I should thinke my paines Rewarded in the Action If the raines Of Samsons headstrong power were in my hands These lips should now performance Your commands Should worke obedience in the loyall brest Of your true servant who would never rest Till she had done the deed But know my Lords If the poore frailty of a womans words May shake so great a power and prevaile My best advis'd endeavours shall not faile To be imploy'd I le make a sudden triall And quickly speed or finde a soule deniall Meditat. 20. INsatiate Samson Could not Azza smother Thy flaming Lust but must thou finde another Is th' old growne stale And seekst thou for a new Alas where Two's too many Three 's too few Mans soule is infinite and never tires In the extension of her owne desires The sprightly nature of his active minde Aimes still at further Will not be confinde To th' poore dimensions of flesh and blood Something it still desiers Covets good Would faine be happy in the sweet enjoyment Of what it prosecutes with the imployment Of best endeavours but it cannot finde So great a good but something 's still behind It first propounds applauds desires endeavours At last enjoyes but like to men in Feavours Who fancy alway those things that are worst The more it drinks the more it is a thirst The fruitfull earth whose nature is the worse For sin with man partaker in the curse â—â—mes at perfection and would faine bring forth As first it did things of the greatest worth â—er colder wombe endeavours as of old To ripen all her Metals unto Gold O but that sin-procured curse hath chill'd The heate of pregnant Nature and hath filld Her barren seed with coldnesse which does lurke In her â—aint wombe that her more perfect worke Is hindred and for want of heate brings forth Imperfect metals of a baser worth Even so the soule of Man in her first state Receiv'd a power and a will to that Which was most pure and good but since the losse Of that faire freedome onely trades in drosse Aimes shee at Wealth alas her proud desire Strives for the best but failing to mount higher Than earth her errour grapples and takes hold On that which earth can onely give her Gold Aimes she at Glory Her ambition flies As high a pitch as her dull wings can rise But failing in her strength she leaves to strive And takes such Honour as base earth can give Aimes she at Pleasure her desires extend To lasting joyes whose pleasures have no end But wanting wings she grovels on the Dust And there she lights upon a carnall Lust Yet nerethelesse th'aspring Soule desires A perfect good but wanting those sweet fires Whose heate should perfect her unrip'ned will Cleaves to th'apparent Good which Good is ill Whose sweet enjoyment being farre unable To give a satisfaction answerable To her unbounded wishes leaves a thirst Of re-enjoyment greater than the first Lord When our fruitlesse fallowes are growne cold And out of heart we can inrich the mould With a new heate wee can restore againe Her weakned soile and make it apt for graine And wilt thou suffer our faint soules to lie Thus unmanur'd that is thy Husbandry They beare no other bulke but idle weeds Alas they have no heart no heate Thy seedes Are cast away untill thou please t'enspire New strength quench them with thy sacred fire Stirre thou my Fallowes and enrich my mould And they shal bring thee'encrease a hundred fold THE ARGVMENT False Delila accosts her Lover her lips endeavour to entice His gentle nature to discover his strength Samson deceives her thrice Sect. 21. SOone as occasion lent our Champions eare To Delila which could not chuse but heare If Delila but whisper'd she whose wiles Were neatly baited with her simple smiles Accosted Samson Her alluring hand Sometimes would stroke his Temples sometime span'd His brawny arme Sometimes would gently gripe His sinewy wrest Another while would wipe His sweating browes Her wanton fingers plai'd Sometimes with his faire lockes sometimes would brai'd His long dishevell'd hair her eyes one while Would steale a glance upon his eyes and smile And theÌ„ her crafty lips would speak then smother Her broken speech and then begin another At last as if a sudden thought had brake From the faire prison of her lips she spake How poore a Grisle is this arme of mine Me thinkes 't is nothing in respect of thine I 'd rather feele the power of thy Love Than of thy hand In that my heart would prove The stouter Champion and would make thee yeeld And leave thee captive in the conquer'd field The strength of my affection passes thine As much as thy victorious arme does mine The greatest conquest then is due to me Thou conquer'st others but I conquer thee But say my love is it some hidden charme Or does thy stocke of youth enrich thy arme With so great power that can overthrow And conquer mighty Kingdomes at a blow What cause have I to joy I need not feare The greatest danger now my Samson's here I feare no Rebels now me thinks thy power Makes me a Princesse and my house a Tower But say my Love if Delila should finde thee Lost in a sleepe could not her fingers binde thee Me thinkes they should But I would scorne to make So poore a Conquest When th' art broad awake Teach me the tricke Or if thou wilt deny me Know that my owne invention shall supply me Without thy helpe I 'le use a womans charmes And binde thee fast within these circled Armes To whom the Champion smiling thus replied Take the greene Osyers that were never dried And bind thy Samsons wrists together then He shall be fast and weake as other men With that the Philistines that lay in waite Within an eares command commanded strait That Osyers should be brought wherwith she tyed Victorious Samsons joyned hands and cryed Samson make haste and let thy strength appeare Samson take heed the Philistines are here He starts and as the flaming fier cracks The slender substance of th'untwisted flaxe 〈◊〉 â—witcht in sunder his divided bands 〈◊〉 in a moment freed his fastned hands 〈◊〉 that offended Delila bewrai'd 〈◊〉 frowne halfe sweetned with a smile and said Thinkst thou thy Delila does goe about 〈◊〉 â—rappe thy life Or can my Samson doubt â—wrodâ— ledge a secret in the loyall brest 〈◊〉 faithfull Delila that findes no rest 〈◊〉 happinesse
Thy servants glory in thy ruine those That were thy private friends are publike foes Thus thus say they we spit our rankrous spleene And gâ—ash our teeth upon the worlds faire Queene Thrice welcome this this long expected day That crownes our conquest with so sweet a prey ELEG 17. REbellious Iudah Could thy flattring crimes Secure thee from the dangers of the times Or did thy summer Prophets ere foresay These evills or warn'd thee of a winters day Did not those sweet-lipt Oracles beguile Thy wanton eares with newes of Wine and Oile But heaven is just what his deepe counsell wild His prophets told and Iustice hath fulfill'd He hath destroy'd no secret place so voyd No Fort so sure that Heaven hath not destroy'd Thou land of Iudah How 's thy sacred throne Become a stage for Heathen to trample on ELEG 18. SEe see th' accursed Gentiles doe inherit The Land of promise where heavens Sacred Spirit Built Temples for his everlasting Name There there th'usurping Pagans doe proclaime Their idle Idols unto whom they gave That stolen honor which heavnes Lord should have Winke Sion O let not those eyes be stain'd With heavens dishonour see not heaven profan'd Close close thine eyes or if they needs must be Open like flood-gates to let water flee Yet let the violence of their flowing streames Obscure thine open eyes and mask their beames ELEG 19. TRust not thy eye-lids lest a flattering sleepe Bribe them to rest and they forget to weepe Powre out thy heart thy heart dissolv'd in teares Weepe forth thy plaints in the Almighties eares Oh let thy cries thy cries to heaven addrest Disturbe the silence of thy midnight rest Prefer the sad petitions of thy soule To heaven ne're close thy lips till heaven condole Confounded Sion and her wounded weale That God that smit oh move that God to heale Oh let thy tongue ne're cease to call thine eye To weepe thy pensive heart ne're cease to cry ELEG 20. VOuchsafe oh thou eternall Lord of pitty To looke on Sion and thy dearest City Confus'd Ierusalem for thy DAVIâ—S sake And for that promise which thy selfe did make To halting Isr'el loe thy hand hath forc'd Mothers whom law lesse Famine hath divorc'd From deare affection to devoure the bloomes And buds that burgeond froÌ„ their painful wombs Thy sacred Priests and Prophets that while-ere Did hourely whisper in thy neighbouring eare Are falne before the sacrilegious sword Even where even whilst they did unfold thy word ELEG 21. WOunded and wasted by th' eternall hand Of heaven I grovell on the ground my land Is turn'd a Golgotha before mine eye Vnsepulchred my murthred people lye My dead lye rudely scattred on the stones My Cawsies all are pav'd with dead mens bones The fierce Destroyer doth alike forbeare The maidens trembling and the Matrons teare Th' imperiall sword spares neither Foole nor Wise The old mans pleading nor the Infants cries Vengeance is deafe and blinde and she respects Nor Young nor Old nor Wise nor Foole nor Sex ELEG 22. YEares heavie laden with their months retire Months gone their date of numbred daies expire The daies full houred to their period tend And howers chac'd with light-foot Minutes end Yet my undated evills no time will minish Though yeares months though daies and howers finish Feares flocke about me as invited guests Before the Portalls at proclamed feasts Where heaveÌ„ hath breathd that man that state must fall Heaven wants no thunder-bolts to strike withall I am the subject of that angry Breath My sonnes are slaine and I am mark'd for death Threnodia III. ELEG 1. ALL you whose unprepared lips did tast The tedious Cup of sharp affliction cast Your wondring eyes on me that have drunke up Those dregs whereof you onely kist the Cup I am the man 'gainst whom th' Eternall hath Discharg'd the lowder volley of his wrath I am the man on whom the brow of night Hath scowl'd unworthy to behold the light I am the man in whom th' Almighty showeâ— The dire example of unpattern'd woes I am that Pris'ner ransome cannot free I am that man and I am onely he ELEG 2. BOndage hath forc'd my servile necke to faile Beneath her load Afflictions nimble flayle Hath thrasht my soule upon a floore of stones And quasht the marrow of my broken bones Th' assembled powres of Heaven enrag'd are eager To root me out Heavens souldiers doe beleager My worried soule my soule unapt for fleeing That yeelds o'reburthen'd with her tedious being Th' Almighties hand hath clouded all my night And clad my soule with a perpetuall light A night of torments and eternall sorrow Like that of Death that never findes a morrow ELEG 3. CHain'd to the brazen pillars of my woes I strive in vaine No mortall hand can loose What heaven hath bound my soule is walld about That hope can nor get in nor feare get out When ere my wav'ring hopes to heaven addresse The feeble voice of my extreame distresse He stops his tyred eares without regard Of Suit or Suitor leaves my prayers unheard Before my faint and stumbling feet he layes Blockes to disturbe my best advised wayes I seeke my peace but seeke my peace in vaine For every way 's a Trap each path's a Traine ELEG 4. DIsturbed Lyons are appeas'd with blood And ravenous Beares are milde not wanting food But heaven ah heaven will not implored be Lyons and Beares are not so fierce as Hee His direfull vengeance which no meane confines Hath crost the thriving of my best designes His hand hath spoild me that erewhile advanc't me Brought in my foes possest my friends against me His Bow is bent his forked Rovers flie Like darted haile-stones from the darkned skie Shot from a hand that cannot erre they be Transfixed in no other marke but me ELEG 5. EXil'd from Heaven I wander to and fro And seeke for streames as Stags new stricken doe And like a wandring Hart I flee the Hounds With Arrowes deeply fixed in my wounds My deadly Hunters with a winged pace Pricke forwards and pursue their weary chace They whoope they hollow me deride flout me That flee from death yet carrie death about me Excesse of torments hath my soule deceiv'd Of all her joyes of all her powres bereiv'd O curious griefe that hast my soule brim-fill'd With thousand deaths and yet my soule not kill'd ELEG 6. FOllow'd with troopes of feares I flie in vaine For change of places breeds new change of paine The base condition of my low estate My exalted Foes disdaine and wonder at Turne where I list these these my wretched eyes They finde no objects but new miseries My soule accustom'd to so long encrease Of paines forgets that she had ever peace Thus thus perplext thus with my griefes distracted What shall I do Heavens powers are compacted To worke my ' eternall ruine To what friend Shal I make mone when heaven conspires my end ELEG 7. GReat GOD what helpe ah me what hope is left
To him that of thy prescence is bereft Absented from thy favour what remaines But sense and sad remembrance of my paines Yet hath affliction op'ned my dull eare And taught me what in weale I ne're could heare Her scourge hath tutor'd me with sharpe corrections And swag'd the swelling of my proud affections Till now I slumbred in a prosp'rous dreame From wheÌ„ce awak'd my griefes are more extreame Hopes newly quickned have my soule assur'd That griefes discover'd are one halfe recur'd ELEG 8. HAd not the milder hand of mercy broke The furious violence of that fatall stroke Offended Iustice strucke we had beene quite Lost in the shadowes of eternall night Thy mercy Lord is like the morning Sunne Whose beames undoe what sable night hath done Or like a streame the current of whose course Restrain'd a while runs with a swifter force Oh let me swelter in those sacred beames And after bathe me in these silver streames To thee alone my sorrowes shall appeale Hath earth a wound too hard for heaven to heale ELEG 9. IN thee deare Lord my pensive soule respires Thou art the fulnesse of my choice desires Thou art that sacred Spring whose waters burst In streames to him that seekes with holy thirst Thrice happy man thrice happy thirst to bring The fainting soule to so so sweet a spring Thrice happy he whose well resolved brest Expects no other aide no other rest Thrice happie he whose downie age had bin Reclaim'd by scourges from the prime of sin And early season'd with the taste of Truth Remembers his Creator in his youth ELEG 10. KNowledge concomitates Heavens painefull rod â— eaches the soule to know her selfe her GOD Vnseiles the eye of Faith presents a morrow Of joy within the â—ablest night of sorrow Th' afflicted soule abounds in barest need Sucks purest honie from the foulest weed Detests that good which pamp'red reason likes Welcomes the stroke kisses the hand that strikes In roughest Tides his well-prepared brest Vntoucht with danger findes aâ— haven of rest Hath all in all when most of all bereaven In earth a hell in hell he findes a Heaven ELEG 11. LAbour perfected with the evening ends The lampe of heaven his course fulfill'd descends Can workes of nature seeke and finde a rest And shall the torments of a troubled brest Impos'd by Natures all-commanding GOD Ne're know an end ne're finde a period Deare soule despaire not whet thy dull beliefe With hope heavens mercy will o'recome thy griefe From thee not him proceeds thy punishment Hee 's slow to wrath and speedy to relent Thou burnst like gold consumest not like fuell O wrong not Heaven to thinke that Heaven is cruell ELEG 12. MOuntaines shall move the Sun his circling course Shall stop Tridented Neptuae shall divorce Th' embracing floods from their beloved Iles Ere heaven forgets his servant and recoyles From his eternall vow Those those that bruise His broken reeds or secretly abuse The doubtfull Title of a rightfull Cause Or with false bribes adulterat the Lawes That should be chaste these these th' Almightie hath Branded for subjects of a future wrath Oh may the just man know th' Eternall hastens His plagues for trialls loves the child he chastens ELEG 13. NO mortall power nor supernall might Not Lucifer nor no infernall spright Nor all together joyn'd in one commission Can thinke or act without divine permission Man wils Heaven breathes successe or not upon it What good what evill befals but heaven hath done it Vpon his right hand Health and Honors stand And flaming Scourges on the other hand Since then the States of good or evill depend Vpon his will fond mortall thou attend Vpon his Wisdome Why should living Dust Complaine on Heaven because that Heaven is just ELEG 14. O Let the ballance of our even pois'd hearts Weigh our afflictions with our just deserts And ease our heavie scale Double the graines We take from sinne Heaven taketh from our pains Oh let thy lowly-bended eyes not feare Th' Almighties frownes nor husband one poore teare Be prodigall in sighes and let thy â—ongue Thy tongue estrang'd to heaven cry all night long My soule thou leav'st what thy Creator did Will thee to doe hast done what he forbid This this hath made so great a strangenesse bee If not divorce betwixt thy GOD and thee ELEG 15. PRepar'd to vengeance and resolv'd to spoile Thy hand just GOD hath taken in thy toile Our wounded soules That arme which hath forgot His wonted mercy kills and spareth not Our crimes have set a barre betwixt thy Grace And us thou hast eclipst thy glorious face Hast stopt thy gracious eare lest prayers enforce done Thy tender Heart to pity and remorse See see great GOD what thy deare hand hath We lie like drosse when all the gold is gone Contemn'd despis'd and like to Atomes flye Before the Sunne the scorne of every eye ELEG 16. QVotidian fevers of reproach and shame Have chill'd our Honor and renowned Name We are become the by-word and the scorne Of Heaven and Earth of heaven earth forlorne Our captiv'd soules are compast round about Within with troopes of feares of foes without Without within distrest and in conclusion We are the haplesse children of confusion Oh how mine eyes the rivers of mine eyes O'reflow these barren lips that can devise No Dialect that can expresse or borrow Sufficient Metaphors to shew my sorrow ELEG 17. RIvers of marish teares have over-flowne My blubber'd cheeks my tongue can find no Tone So sharpe as silence to bewaile that woe Whose flowing Tides an Ebbe could never know Weepe on mine eyes mine eyes shall never cease Speake on my Tongue forget to hold thy peace Cease not thy teares close not thy lips so long Til heaven shal wipe thine eles heare thy tongue What heart of brasse what Adamantine brest Can know the torments of my soule and rest What stupid braine ah me what marble eye Can see these these my ruines and not cry ELEG 18. SO hath the Fowler with his slye deceits Beguil'd the harmelesse bird so with false baits The treach'rous Angler strikes his nibbling prey Even so my Foes my guiltlesse soule betray So have my fierce pursuers with close wiles Inthralled me and gloried in my spoiles Where undermining plots could not prevaile There mischiefe did with strength of arme assaile Thus in afflictions troubled billowes tost I live but t is a life worse had than lost Thus thus o'rewhelm'd my secret soule doth cry I am destroy'd and there 's no helper nigh ELEG 19. THou great Creator whose diviner breath Preserves thy Creature joyst not in his death Looke downe from thy eternall Throne that art The onely Rocke of a despairing heart Looke downe from Heaven O thou whose tender eare Once heard the trickling of one single teare How art thou now estranged from his cry That sends forth Rivers from his fruitfull eye How often hast thou with a gentle arme Rais'd me from death and bid
me feare no harme What strange disaster caus'd this sudden change How wert thou once so neare and now so strange ELEG 20. VAnquisht by such as thirsted for my life And brought my soule into a legall strife How oft hast thou just GOD maintain'd my cause And crost the sentence of their bloudie lawes Be still my God be still that GOD thou wert Looke on thy mercy not on my desert Be thou my Iudge betwixt my foes and me The Advocate betwixt my soule Thee 'Gainst thee great Lord their arme they have advanc'd And dealt that blow to thee that thus hath glanc'd Vpon my soule smite those that have smit thee And for thy sake discharge their spleene at me ELEG 21. WHat squint-ey'd scorne what flout what wry-mouth'd scoffe That sullen pride e're tooke acquaintance of Hath scap'd the furie of my Foemans tongue To doe my simple Innocencie wrong What day what houre nay what shorter season Hath kept my soule secure from the treason Of their corrupted counsels which dispensed Dayes nights and houres to conspire my end My sorrowes are their songs and as slight fables Fill up the silence of their wanton tables Looke downe just God with thy powre divine Behold my Foes They be thy Foes and mine ELEG 22. YEt sleeps thy vengeance Can thy lustice be So slow to them and yet so sharpe to me Dismount just Iudge from thy Tribunall Throne And pay thy Foemen the deserved lone Of their unjust designes Make fierce thy hand And scourge thou theÌ„ as they have scourg'd my laÌ„d Breake thou their Adamantine hearts pound theÌ„ To dust and with thy finall curse confound them Let horror seize their soules O may they bee The scorne of Nations that have scorned thee O may they live distrest and die bereaven Of earth delights and of the joyes of Heaven Threnodia IIII. ELEG 1. ALas what alterations Ah how strange Amazement flowes from such an uncouth change Ambitious Ruine could thy razing hand Finde ne're a subject but the Holy Land Thou sacrilegious Ruine to attempt The house of God! was not heavens house exempt From thy accursed Rape Ah me Behold Sion whose pavement of refulgent gold So lately did reflect so bright so pure How dimme how drossie now ah how obscure Her sacred stones lie scatter'd in the street For stumbling blocks before the Levites feet ELEG 2. BEhold her Princes whose victorious browes Fame oft had crowned with her Laurell bowes See how they hide their shame-confounded crests And hang their heads upon their fainting brests Behold her Captaines and brave men at armes Whose spirits fired at warres loud alarmes Like worried sheepe how flee they from the noise Of Drummes and startle at the Trumpets voice They faint and like amazed Lyons show Their fearefull heeles if Chaunticleere but crow How are the pillars Sion of thy state Transform'd toâ—lay and burnisht gold so late ELEG 3. CAn furious Dragons heare their helplesse broode Cry out and fill their hungry lips with food Hath Nature taught fierce Tygers to apply The brest unto their younglings empty cry Have savage beasts time place and natures helps To feed and foster up their idle whelpes And shall the tender Babes of Sion cry And pine for food and yet their mothers by Dragons and Tygers and all savage beasts Can feed their young but Sion hath no breasts Distressed Sion more unhappie farre Than Dragons savage Beasts or Tygers are ELEG 4. DEath thou pursuest if from death thou flee Or if thou turnst thy flight Death followes thee Thy staffe of life is broke for want of bread Thy City pines and halfe thy Land is dead The son t' his father weepes makes fruitlesse moane The father weepes upon his weeping sonne The brother cals upon his pined brother And both come crying to their hungry mother The empty Babe in stead of milke drawes downe His Nurses teares well mingled with his owne Nor chaÌ„ge of place nor time with help supplys thee Abroad the Sword famine at home destroyes thee ELEG 5. EXcesse and Surfet now have left thy coast The lavish Guest now wants his greedie Host No wanton Cooke prepares his poynant meate To teach a saciate palate how to eate Now â—acchus pines and shakes his feeble knees And pamp'red Envie lookes as plumpe as Hee 's Discolour'd Ceres that was once so faire Hath lost her beauty â—indg'd her golden haire Thy Princes mourne in rags asham'd t' infold Their leaden spirits in a case of gold From place to place thy Statesmen wandring are On every dung-hill lies a man of warre ELEG 6. FOule Sodome and incestuous Gomorrow Had my destruction but ne're my sorrow Vengeance had mercy there Her hand did send A sharpe beginning but a sudden end Iustice was milde and with her hastie flashes They fell and sweetly slept in peacefull Ashes They felt no rage of an insulting Foe Nor Famins piching furie as I doe They had no sacred Temple to defile Or if they had they would have helpt to spoile They dy'd but once but I poore wretched I Die many deaths and yet have more to die ELEG 7. GOld from the Mint Milke from the uberous Cow Was ne're so pure in substance nor in show As were my Nazarites whose inward graces Adorn'd the outward lustre of their faces Their faces robb'd the Lilly and the Rose Of red and white more faire more sweet then those Their bodies were the magazines of perfection Their skins vnblemisht were of pure complexion Through which their Saphire-colour'd veines descride The Azure beauty of their naked pride The flaming Carbuncle was not so bright Nor yet the rare discolour'd Chrysolite ELEG 8. HOw are my sacred Nazarites that were The blazing Planets of my glorious Sphaere Obscur'd and darkned in Afflictions cloud Astonisht at their owne disguize they shrowd Their foule transformed shapes in the dull shade Of sullen darknesse of themselves afraid See how the brother gazes on the brother And both affrighted start and flie each other Blacke as their Fates they cross the streets unkend The Sire his Son The friend disclaimes his frend They they that were the flowers of my Land Like withered Weeds and blasted Hemlocke stand ELEG 9. IMpetuous Famine Sister to the Sword Left hand of Death Childe of th' infernall Lord Thou Tort'rer of Mankind that with one stroake Subject'st the world to thy imperious yoake What pleasure tak'st thou in the tedious breath Of pined Mortals or their lingring death The Sword thy generous brother 's not so cruell He kills but once fights in a noble Duell But thou malicious Furie dost extend Thy spleene to all whose death can find no end Alas my haplesse weale can want no woe That feeles the rage of Sword and famine too ELEG 10. KInde is that death whose weapons do but kill But we are often slaine yet dying still Our torments are too gentle yet too rough They gripe too hard because not hard enough My people teare their trembling flesh for food