when other life is dead Loue is thy grace that higest good doth giue Loue me then lorde and I shall euer liue And with that worde proceeding from her hart The trickeling teares distilled downe her eies As if her sence possest in euery part A secret ioie that did the soule surprise when lifting vp her handes oh loue quod shee My soule is sicke she cannot be with thee And from the mercy of thy maiesty Beholde the sorrowes of my wounded soule Let pitties care of loues calamitie My ruthfull teares thy register enrowle And thinke vpon the passions that I approue For truely lorde my soule is sicke of loue And sicke it is and so well maie it bee A sweeter sickenes then a worldly health A healthfull sickenes to be sicke for thee where Natures want doth proue the spirits wealth while hart hath set her highest happines But to beholde thee in thy holines But I am sicke and sicke in euery vaine Sicke to the death but not to die to thee For why thy loue assures me life againe And there to liue where death can neuer be Oh sweetest sicknes where the soule may see The way through death to come to liue with thee To liue with thee oh euer liuing loue Oh let me die that I may liue no more Till in thy loue I may the life approue That may confesse I neuer liu'de before Life is but death where thy loue shineth neuer Onely thy loue is happy life for euer My sinnes my sinnes with sorrow and with shame Of faultes and follies couerd haue my face Death is my due I haue deseru'd the same Wo to the hart in such vnhappy case But if repentance mercy may obtaine Looke on me loue and I am well againe Vnhappy hart that euer thee offended Vnworthy eies thy blessing to beholde Vncarefull eare that euer tale attended But to the truth that hath thy mercy tolde vnfaithful soule that euer thought did moue From euerliuing with thine onely loue But now the hartis dead to worldes delight And eies in teares pronounce repentance truth The eare is deafe vntill the hart be right To see the life that of thy loue ensueth The faithfull soule of pleasure is depriued Dead till her life be by thy loue reuiued Nor let me teâ—…pt that 〈◊〉 loue of thine To hasten time beyonde thy holy will But only looke vpon this soule of mine That in thy loue may be her liuing still Till shee may heare this ioiful â—…ounde of thee Come away loue and euer liue with me But yet my loue me 〈◊〉 I see thee looke As though my soule had thee displeased sore But hath my loue so high displeasure tooke That he will looke vpon my loue no more Oh yes my loue will not be angry euer And where he loues he will be angry neuer Then though thou chide yet be not angry loue But in thy kindenes giues thy sweete correction That humble hart maie in repentance proue The dearest passage of thy loues direction whose blessed ende may in this only be To liue to die to die to liue to thee Me thinkes I see that glorious seate of thine whereto thy Saints and Angels al assemble And in the presence of thy power diuine with Ioifull feare how euen the highest tremble And when those spirits doe such passions proue Shall I presume to think vpon thy loue Oh sweetest loue that carries such a force As keepes the hart of humble hope in awe And sweete againe that caries such remorse As hath cut off the curses of the lawe And sweetest yit that in the soule doth proue There is no sweete indeede but in thy loue Which feeds the huÌ„gry with a heaueÌ„ly bread And cooles the thirsty from the liuing Rocke which heales the sicke giues life vnto the dead And wakes the careful with the morning Cocke which breedes the peace that stinteth euery strife And giues the fountaine of the well of life It is the key that opes the doore of grace Vnto the care that thou hast constant proued And shewes the fauour of thy shining face Vnto the blessed of thy deare beloued It is in summe the infinite sweete pleasure Of tried faith and true Repentance treasure Oh ioy ofioies what hart can comprehend thee Oh sweet of sweets what sence that can coÌ„ceiue thee Blest be the harts that truly doe attend thee And ten times blest that in their soules receiue thee And fairely blest whom thou hast faithful proued But chiefly blest whom thou hast chiefly loued Me thinkes I see how sweetly thou dost ride Aboue the heauens vpon the Cherubs high with all thine Angels set on euery side with all the sound of sweetest harmony wheral some their sweetest notes do frame To sing the praises of thy holy name Me thinkes I see thy holy Martyrs crowned On huÌ„ble knees cast down their crowns before thee And cry alowd be thou alone renowned Let heauen and earth and all the world adore thee when my poore soule with sinne oppressed sore Can say Amen yet though it say no more Oh that my soule could see that sacred light That might but leade me to thy holy will And learne the rule that keepes the soule aright In perfect faith thy precepts to fulfill And might so neere vnto thy hand abide As from thy loue might neuer steppe aside But what am Iâ—… a worme and wretched thing Vnworthy creature made of earth and claie Once to presume to speake vnto my King On whom the state of highest heauens doth staie Let not presumption thy displeasure moue But in thy pitty looke vpon my loue For I am sicke oh sauiour sende me health My hart is hurt come heale my deadly wounde And I am poore relieue me with thy wealth Yea I am dead oh raise me from the grounde My health my wealth my only resurrection let my soule liue but in thy loues perfection Beholde the tearâ—…s of my repentaunt truth And wey my sorrowes by my sighing sobbes And in the rule but of thy heauenly ruth Feele my poore hart in horror how it throbbes And when thou seest my soule thus wo begun her In thy sweete mercy sweete loue looke vpon her And from the dew of thy deare blessed loue Let fall one droppe vpon my dried hart wherein my soule such comfort maie approue As maie asswage the rigour of my smart And being so by thy sweete hand relieued Maie so reioice as neuer more be grieued Lorde who dare looke against thy liuing power Or what doth liue but onely in thy loue The sweete of sweets where there was neuer sower But ioies of ioies that can no sorrow proue Oh purest proofe of loue and lifes perfection Blest be the soule that liues by thy direction But my hart pantes my soule doth quake for feare And sorrowes paine possesseth euery part My heape of sinnes to heuy for to beare Presse downe desire with terror of desart And in great dread of deepe dispaire doth crie Grace giue me life for
in my sinnes I die For still the flesh is subiect to offende while yet the spirit groneth for thy grace But thou hast power the weakest to defende That vnto thee reueale their heauy case Then from that hande and mighty arme of thine Strengthen this weake wounded soule of mine Thou that hast saide prowde Esaw was thy hate And humble Iacob was thy chosen loue That dost the power of worldly pride abate And workst the heauen of humble hartes behoue Make Esawes life with lacobs loue agree Or kill the flesh the soule maie liue with thee And from despaire that poisned sting of death Deliuer lorde the sorrowes of desire And at the latest houre and gaspe of breath Let humble hart the hope of heauen aspire where faithfull soules maie in thy fauour see That onely loue doth onely liue in thee What booteth me the world for to possesse And want the iewell of my heauenly ioie what earths delight but is to me distresse when natures health doth proue the soules anoye No my sweete loue let this poore soule of mine Neuer haue life but in that loue of thine One precious droppe of thy pure oile of grace Power downe sweete loue into my wounded hart And to my faith so turne thy louing face That from thy fauour I maie neuer part Looke on thy Mary with her bitter teares That washt thy feete and wiptethe with her heares The greater depts forgiuen the greater loue Thy worde hath saide and it saies euer true when patience life in pitties loue doth proue In greatest mercy greatest glory grue where one mans sinne procured all mens paine And one mans grace gaue all men life againe Oh high creator of all creatures liuing who nothing wantst that all thinges dost possesse what hath the world that may be worth the giuing Vnto the honor of thy holines But onely thankes that thy true spirit moueth In that true hart that thy true mercy loueth But still I see my loue is sore displeasde And tels me of my great vngratefulnes when so my soule with sorrow is diseasde As in my hart findes nought but hatefulnes And with the teares of true repentance crieth Lorde saue the life that in thy mercy lieth For thou art loue the euerliuing God And onely God and onely of the liuing who though thou smitst thy children with thy rod Sweete is the care of thy corrections giuing In which thy sweete and kindest care correct me But in thy mercy neuer doe reiect me Let neuer death against thy life preuaile Nor euer hate once looke against thy loue Nor faithfull hope thy heaunly fauour faile But harts contrition happy comfort proue And let the soule euen at the dore of death Liue by the aiâ—…r but of thy heauenly breath Mine eâ—…es are dimme my flesh bare skin and bone My sinewes shroncke and all my limmes are num Mine eares are deafe but to the sound of mone My speech is but to sorrow stroken dum My bloode dried vp my hart with sorrow soken Oh helpe the soule before the heart be broken Behold the sorrowes that my soule doeth make And see what torments teare my heart a sunder where euery teare doth other ouertake where fearefull care puts faithfull comforts vnder Oh my sweete life though I be deadly wounded Let not my faith be vtterly confounded And Since oh king that thou art onely able To helpe the helples onely but in thee And by one crumme from thy true mercies table The wofull soule may well relieued be Of that sweete foode oh let my faith so tast That by thy loue my life may euer last What life is this that wretches here we leade Caring and carking for our fleshly liues Neuer wel fild when we are too much fedde where strange conceits for true contentment striues Tearing our harts and tiring out our mindes For that in fine which but repentance findes Where kindnes proues a kinde of leude conceite Leading the heart to lothsomnes of loue while wisest wits on wanton humours waite And wilfull fancies doe but follies proue where power pride so plage the world with woes That peace and vertue all to ruine goes Where gold is helde a God siluer a Saint And durt and drosse are dearest in regarde where frendship failes and faith beginnes to faint And curses rule while blessed thoughts are barde And all and some doe in conclusion proue wo to the world that liues not by thy loue Where valure proues but foolish hardines And greatest wit is wicked wilines And honour gotten by vnworthines Fils all the world with all vnhappines while vertue sighes at sinners wickednes And Angels mourne for our vngodlines Where parents grieue at childerns stubbornes And children smile at parents childishnes where masters sigh at seruants idlenes And seruants laugh at masters wantonnes while faithfull soules in sorrowes wretchednes Looke but in heauen to haue their blessednes Where subtle heads are simple harts illusion while Tyraunt thoughts vniustly make intrusion And outward shewes are inward thoughts allusion while strange delightes are strong desires delusion And heedles care doeth make vp this conclusion That lacke of grace is all the worlds confusion Where brightest truth by treason often blamed is VVhile faithles hart with falshood all enflamed is And carefull age with sorrow all ashamed is That careles youth so long at large vntamed is That where good nature all alas misnamed is The faith of honour vtterlie defamedis VVhere sore deâ—…aies the care of true Gentility And strong disquiet standeth for tranquility And vertue is of too much imbecility where faith is found but ful of al fragility when honors loue that liues by hopes humility Must walke among the beggars for ability Oh wicked fruit of woful hearts affection when once the soule is toucht with sins infection And wil not learne by care of thy correction To leade a life but by thy loues direction where in the fire of thy bright sunnes reflexion They maie behold the height of their perfection But what is Earth and what but earth are we A goodly brag begunne and endes in dust where old young all the world may see From whence we came and whetherto we must Short time we liue no sooner dead then rotten And scarce welburied but wee are forgotten Oh Lord thou knowest this world is all but wo where sinne doth seeke to get the vpper hand The flesh would faine the spirit ouerthrow But that her stay doth in thy mercy stand But since the soule may conquer sinne by thee Lord let thy mercy onely sight for me Let me but looke vpon thy holie loue And sucke my honie from that heauenlie hiue wherein my soule such sweetnes maie approue That with that foode shee maie for euer liue And feeding so vpon thy sacred will when shee is fedde yet maie shee hunger still Oh bring me home that long haue beene abroade And leade me streight that long haue gone astraie And raise me vp that haue beene ouertroade And
on thy mercie let me onlie staie That my poore soule maie in thy comfort proue Lo what it is to liue but in thy loue Some wish for golde and some for golden graces Some wish for wit and some for worldely pleasure Some wish for power and some for stately places And some alone doe wish for worldely treasure But let my will those wishes all displace And wish alone thy fauour and thy grace Some in their chariots some in horses trust But be thou still a strong defence to me Some heere desire but to possesse their lust Let my soules loue be but to liue to thee Some wish but here to purchase worldly fame Let me but ioie to glorify thy name And not alone in sweetest wordes to moue The worldly eares to wonder at the same But in my workes thy praises I maie proue I doe but seeke the honour of thy name That all true soules maie iustly saie with me All that is good directly comes of thee Let me but tuch the garment of thy grace I shall be healed of my sickest sore Let me but looke vpon thy louing face Such health will come I shall be sicke no more Yea if thy mercy mi◅igate my paine If I were dead I shoulde reuiue againe Forget oh lorde the follies of my youth And giue me not the death of my desart But of the treasures of thy heauenly Truth Bestow an almes on my needy hart That in the secrets of thy sacred loue My carefull soule her comfort may approue Let not mine eare one listen to the sounde Of vaine conceits that but deceiue the minde Nor let the worlde so giue my hart a wounde That in my soule mine eie be stroken blinde But let my spirit onely make her choise But in thy loue and mercy to reioice Oh that my waies were all and whole directed Vnto the seruice of thy sacred will And that my faith had in my soule effected The happy comfort of that heauenly skill That in true loue might euer so attende thee As in default might neuer more offende thee That I might leaue this lothsome world of ours And chuse the honor of thy childrens awe And in thy heauen and with thy heauenly powers Learne but obedience to thy blessed lawe And with thy saints and holy Martyrs sing All lawde and glory to my heauenly king Then should my hart finde out my heaunly rest And sorrow then should tuch my soule no more But hart and soule both in thy mercie blest Should daie and night thy holy name dore And make the worlde by some effectes to see It is thy loue hath wrought this life in me And with that worde she sweetly fetch a sigh And then a sobbe and then a bitter teare As who should saie that either death was nigh Or els her hart was stroken with a feare Or els the spirit might be ouercome That for the time her tongue was stroken dumme But let it be all blessed is the traunce when so the soule is ouercome with loue That vertues choice doth finde it is no chaunce when humble faith doth heaunly fauour proue And when the sences from their sleepe arise The spirit findes the life that neuer dies So when it seemde shee waked from her sleepe Or sodaine traunce for so I tearme it right when such high care did so her sences keepe That shee awakt with glory of the light Oh sacred loue and sweetest life quod shee what happy figure hath appearde to me Did I beholde that fairest shining light That made me shake for feare to see thy face And weepe for ioie that in thy blessed sight My sinfull soule might come and sue for grace And did I see thy loue so sweetely vse mee That in thy mercy thou wouldst not refuse me And did thy mercy so thy loue entreate That iustice gaue her sworde to mercies hande And did thy mercy sit in iustice seate And did the iudgement in thy mercie stande Oh blessed loue where mercie doth approue The fruite of loue is mercie mercies loue I must confesse my conscience did cond◅mne me Of such offence as I coulde not denie And of such crime as thou migh◅st well contēne me when by my due I had deseru'd to die But when thy mercy did my sorrowe see How in thy pitty shee did pleade for me Beholde quod shee the true repentant hart which bleedes in teares with sorrowe of her sinne what passions haue perplexed euery part where penitence doth pitties suite beginne where true confession doth submission proue And true contrition cries to me for loue Beholde the faith that hath her fairest holde Vpon the gift of thy especiall grace Thy word of truth that to the world hath told The faithfull soule in heauen shall haue a place And true repentance shall by me obtaine The freed ioyes from euerlasting paine VVhen that vile serpent euery soules accuser That sought to bring my comforts to decay That ougly deuil al the worldes abuser In furies rage me thought did fly awaie And to the life but of thy mercy leaue me who to thy seruice sweetely did receiue me VVhen all thy Saintes and martyrs came vnto me And in their armes thine Angels did embrace me And all were glad what comfort they could doe me And in a seate of paradise so place me That al with ioie surprisde these ioies to see I wake and praie the vision true may bee For this is it sweete Lorde that I would haue The world is short in sounding my desire It is thy mercy that I onelie craue Thy vertues loue that set my hart on fire And in thy loue that onely liuing blisse That world may wish but know not what it is FINIS Errata Pag. 8 lin ◅ on for one p. 11. l. 2. end for sed l. 10. endings for sendings p. 28. l. 19. in gold her grace for her gold in grace lin 20. for worthines read worthles l. 21. lines for li◅es p. 40. lin 18. can offend me for offend me
might he see a Monky with an Ape Climing a tree and cracking of a Nut One sparrow teache an other how to gape But not a tame one taught to keepe the cut And many a lacke daw in his foolish chat while parets prated of they knew not what But when shee saw humilities affection wonne from the world to seeke for heauenly fauour And that the soule by wisdome â—…ound direction In sacred flowers should finde the sweetest sauour Shee raisde him vp and badde him there receiue The true delightes should not the soule deceiue When lifted vp by that faire hande of loue That brought the hart an vnknowen happines And euery seruant sweetly did approue A blessing in their Masters blessednes with silent thoughtes they humbly did attende The words that did their comfort comprehende Poore wretch quod shee thy faithfull patient hart the highest powers in pitty doe regarde where true repentance pleades for no desart But bounties grace where mercy giues rewarde The heauens haue harde thy humble happy praier To helpe thy hope and keepe thee from despaire The labour that thy loue hath tane in hande Thy trauaile minding neuer to retire The happy staie whereon thy hope doth stande where humble praier but pitty doth aspire Haue got thee grace in mercies glorious eies To finde the path that leades to paradise This is the 〈◊〉 that patience onely treades where life doth goe on pilgrimage to loue whose humble hart the holy spirite leades vnto the height of blessed hopes behoue whom graces garde till perils al be past And faith resolu'de doe finde her rest at last Since thou hast scapte the vaunt of Venus vaine And not presumde Diana to approch Since Flora coulde no further fauour gaine Nor Ceres coulde thy carefull thought encroch Since fooles and deuils all are driuen awaie Bide but a night and thou shalt see the daie Since thou hast scapte the way of wretchednes where shameles mindes to shamefull shapes are turned And founde the waie of fairest blessednes where hart enflamde with vertues fire hath burned Keepe on the path and turne on neither side Grace to thy hope will be a happy guide Thinke it not longe to cumme to heauen at last Nor linger time to hinder happy speede Feare not the sunne though skies be ouercast And let a candell stande the night in steede So marke the light that liues in vertues eies And loue shall leade thee straight to paradise Feare not the foes nor forces thou shalt meete For thou shalt meete with monsters many a one But faith resolu'de treds fortune vnder feete where vertue comes will vices all be gone Hell cannot hurt whom heauenly powers defend where grace begins hope makes a happy end Lo neere at hand he that would hurt thee most An ougly Monster full af all corruption By whose illusion many soules haue lost Their liuely hopes by lowdenes interruption A Lier Theife and master of all evill The sier of sinne the fiendâ—… of hell the deuill Seauen are his heades as many are his tailes Ecâ—… head a tongue and every taile a sting And woe to them with whom his tongues prevailes within the compase of his tails to bringe But skorne his wordes or quite him with disgrace and thou shalt kill or make him fly the place His body is the very sinke of sinne Into which hole all hellish filth doth runne A plague of pride presumption did beginne An endles plague that was in pride begunne where every head the body standes in steed with poisoned soules the filthy paunch to feede His swordes are wordes with which he is to fight whose forces can but faithles hartes offende For if hee looke but once at vertues light He faintes for feare and feeles his forces ende But heare him speake and neuer feare his spight when vertue laughes at vanities delight His greatest head and that doth gape most wide Is proude Ambition swallowing worldly wealth which faithles soules infectes with filthy pride Killing the spirit for the bodies health Vpon which head he beares a triple crowne That Vertue sees is neere his tumbling downe In which great head his tongue is all vntruth Lies to bewitch the worlde vnto his will The ease of Age and high conceit of youth are greatest groundes of his vngratious skil To gouerne states is such a stately thinge what slaue is he that would not be a king And thus the villaine would the world perswade To prowde attemptes that may presume to high But earthly ioies wil make him proue a â—…ade when vertue speakes of loues diuinity where humble hart doth to that heauen aspire where is no place for any proude desire The seconde heade is wicked avarice Choking it selfe with trash in steade of treasure whose tongue is treason that can best deuise To hurte the spirite with the bodies pleasure But talke of vertues ioie in Misery And he wil pine to death in penury The thirde foule head is filthy Gluttony Deuouring more then it can well disgest Leading the harte to loathsome villany And of a man doth make an ougly beaste But answere him with fasting and with praier The very wordes will kill him with their aier The fourth bad head is beastly slothfulnes Sleeping and snorting like a filthy swine Loosing the time in loathsome Idlenes Dreaming of that which neuer was diuine But answere him with vertues carefull watching He faintes and falls to finde his ouermatching The fifte vile heade is filthy lechery which leades the hart to hateful wickednes His tongue a forge of fancies treachery To bring the soule to all vnhappines But answere him with vertues chaste desire And he will bite his very taile for ire The sixte is enuy full of malice fraught Feeding on Snakes that faine would vertue stinge which where they finde their forces come to nought Into his mouth they backe their poison bring But say how patience leades to paradise He frets and fumes and in impatience dies The seuenth is murther most accursed head whose tongue is blasphemy all dide in blood which with the harts of harmeles creatures feade Lappes in the broath of an Infernall foode But saie how vertue doth for vengeance crie And dead he falles or els awaie doth flie Now beare these heauenly lessons all by harte And take these bookes to benefite thy minde In each of which is hidde a secret arte whose proper vse maie profite in his kinde But chiefly doe this holly booke peruse where speciall comfortes maie thy spirit chuse When hauing giuen into his humble hande Seuen sundry bookes whereonto vse his wit And last the staie whereon the state did stande Of happy life where heauenly loue doth sit The holy booke of vertues blessed vaine Home shee returnes vnto her heauen againe Which when the pilgrime humbly did beholde Carying in minde the comforts of his hart which to his faith her fauour did vnfolde To keepe the soule from an Infernall smart Against the fury of this fiende of hell Onwardes he goes God speede