in Arts fairest Founts thy Feathers wash to flye to him that Heau'n and Earth adores Thy Raptures else are but such Rauishments as are reproachfull penall lewde and light But Raptures farre aboue the Elements doe shew thy Vertue in the fairest â—light O then thou great vnlimitable Muse that rests in motion in th'ETERNALS Breast Inspire my Muse with grace her pow'r to vse in nought but what to thee shall be addrest So shall that Spirit that made thy Dauid sing Make Dauies too a Begger like a King THE MVSES SACRIFICE A Confession of sinnes with petition for grace O Trinall Vnion God creating Gods O sole resistles all-effecting Pow'r When wilt attone twixt mee and thee the ods Till when eternall I account each how'r I am O Lord thy Creature re-created Made marr'd re-made by Loue by Sinne by Grace Shall Loue and Grace by Sinne be so defeated That Loue should lose her labor Grace her place Thou art the Salue and I the mortall Sore Yet with one touch thy vertue can reuiue me To heale this Sore a Speare thy heart did gore Kinde Pelican that thy Bloud might relieue me Thy Hands that form'd reform'd and me conform'd Were to a Crosse transfixed for my sake To help my hatefull hands that sinne inorm'd Then can those helping Hands their Cure forsake Thy Head was crown'd with Thorny Diadem To cure mine crown'd with Sinnes sweet-pricking Roses Thy body ah did bloud water streame To wash away Sinnes soile which mine encloses Thy Feete was crosse-wise nailed to a Crosse To heale mine swolne with running into vice On thy saire Skin whips did my Crimes engrosse So freedst thou me from them with bloudy price Then can such Loue now leaue the thing it lou'd Is Sinne so sowre to turne sweete Loue to Hate To dye for Sinne it thee alone behou'd And yet shall Sinne thy Deaths desert abate O God forbid sith Sinne and Death and Hell Thou on the Crosse didst conquer throgh thy death And by the pow'r thereof their pow'r didst quell To lowest deepes and it restrain'd beneath Besides thou saist but Truth what canst thou say A Gulph is set the two Extreames betweene Twixt Heauen and Hell no entercourses may By meanes thereof at any time be seene I am in Heauen for in thy glorious Wounds By Faith I hide me from Sinne Death and Hell If Sathan for my plague would breake his bounds Those Gulphes of grace to stay will him compell Then keep me in thy Wounds my soules sole heau'n From whence if out-cast I to Hell must fall Where out-cast-like of Hope shall be bereau'n If reft of Hope then reft of Help withall But help me Lord else hopelesse shall I be Thy help the hopefull neuer faild at need Then sith my hope of help alone 's in thee Let speedy help my ready hope succeed Vpon thine Hand thine hand hath writ my Name Then reade thy Hand and saue me by the same A Sinners acknowledgement of his Vilenesse and Mutabilitie SPare me deare Lord my daies as nothing be Consum'd in Sin then which is nothing worse Yet Sinne is nothing yet can well agree With nothing but thy vengeance and thy curse Yet is it that without which none can liue Sprong from our Proto-parents rootes of strife Linckt to that Curse that Life a crosse doth giue not crosse of Life but crosse in Booke of Life Then happy that that Life yet neuer had Life that still subiect is to such a crosse And haplesse I that liue in life so bad Where life is found with lifes eternall losse Ah what am I but slime durt dounge and dust Graue-monsteâ—s food Wormes pittance most impure Sprong froÌ„ the earth vnto earth that must How where or when I sure am most vnsure Abortiue Brat of damn'd Concupiscence Hels heire Heau'ns hate eternall food for Fire A Gulph of griefe and Sincke of foule offence Scum of vaine Pride and froth of damn'd Desire Copesmate of Beasts and to a Beast transform'd A Dungeon darke a loathsome Lumpe of Earth Fardle of filth prodigious foule deform'd Dishonours vassaile cursed childe of Wrath Patterne of Vice and Mould of Vanitie Made of the Molde that marres what ere it makes Errors misse-maze where lost is Veritie Or blinded so that still wrong course it takes A Bramble Bryer an vse-lesse barren Plant A Dogge a Hogge a Viper most vnkinde A Rocke of wracke dry Well of eu'ry Want A Weather-cocke more wau'ring then the winde A thing of naught a naughtie thing that marres What Goodnesse makes a damn'd incarnate Deuill Contentions Source Loues hate still causing iarres A banefull weede and Roote of eu'ry euill What shall I say A Map of miserie Confusions Chaos Frailties Spectacle The Worlds disease Times vgliâ—â—â— Prodigie Th' abuse of Men and Sh 〈…〉 â—btectacle Mortall and to a Bubble suteable Whose slesh as Flowres whose life as Houres consumes Of matter made more then most mutable Yet sure of certaine death of life presumes Fraile life which more it lasts the sooner worne The longer drawne the shorter is the date Hedg'd in with cares as with an Hedge of Thorne Whose piercing prickes the minde doe vulnerate If merry now anone with woe I weepe If lustie now forth-with am water-weake If now aliue anone am buried deepe That houre that glads the heart the heart doth breake One while I laugh another while I lowre Now ioy in Griefe and then in Ioy I grieue Now wake in Care then sleepe I straight secure Now I dispaire then Hope doth me relieue Now sigh for sinne then sinne so sigh in vaine Now minde I Heau'n then Earth excogitate Now fast and pray then feast and prate againe Now labours end then labours renouate Now am I loose then lose I libertie Now sound then sicke now vp then downe I fall Now am I safe and then in ieopardie Now ouerco 〈…〉 then put to the wall Now I discourse then mute againe I muse Now seek the World then search I for thy Waies Now am abus'd and then I doe abuse Now hate then loue now praise then straight dispraise Now This I long for by and by for That This now delights me then with that am cloid Now would haue this and then I wot not what And thus with This and That am still annoid To count the count-lesse vaine varieties Wherewith this mortall life surrounded is Or to recite our vaines in vanities I may as of the Starres the reck'ning misse All that this earthy Boowle on breast doth beare Is subiect most to most vnconstant state One moment makes as if they neuer were And eu'ry minute drawes them to their date The heate the cold the hunger thirst and all The miseries that life fraile life annoy Which swarming hide this Globe terrestriall No Tongue can tell thogh all their pow'rs employ Death seconds these if not the second Death Who with his fatall Fanne sweepes all away At All saith he whose nostrils bound their breath Thus carelesly at All with All
me still from all misse-fortunes and from so daine Death Which in this World that dangers ouer-fill is more then Fortune can to Man bequeath How many haue I seene the Warres to weare might haue seen hāg'd drown'd staru'd burnt torne How many poyson'd spill themselues with feare with Pox Plagues Pestilence how many worne The thousands blinde deafe dumbe lame leperous besides the Millions otherwise distrest In Minde and Body with griefes dolorous make me to see how much my State is blest For that which fell to any one of these might me befall be'ing euill as they be And that I haue more soundnesse ioy and ease it is to winne my loue thy loue to me If any mortall King should for one crime many condemne and saue but one or two And I of those condemnd should be the prime yet first of those two saued should be too How would my Heart be rauish'd with his Loue and how would all my Pow'rs striue him to serue Then no lesse Grace thy grace doth make me proue nay more much more thou dost my loue deserue For double thou deseru'st in treble kinde thou sau'dst my Soule and body doom'd to Death And from all franticke passions keep'st my Minde therefore I owe thee Minde Soule Body Breath For t is thy Grace we be not all consum'd but most of all my selfe that most doth sinne Sith on that Grace I haue to sinne presum'd yet still by grace seek'st me from sinne to win A Body thou hast giu'n me that doth lacke all that thou giu'st me to continue life And lest through want thereof It should to wrack with me those gifts are no lesse rich then rife All things thou mad'st for me and me for Thee for me Ground Graine Trees Fruit Mines Mettall bear Aire Fowle Seas Fish Fish Fowle for me produce most glorious Pearle and Plumes to weare For me Seas Ships Ships Sailes Sailes Winds endure to bring me Benefis from forraine Lands For me Flouds flow Wels spring Springs Water pure doe yeeld that I should yeeld to thy commands Sheepe Oxen Kine Goates Buckes and other Beasts yeeld Flesh Fleece Fels Milke Oile Hornes for me For me the Hound doth cry the Spaniell quests to teach me how to cry with hope to Thee The Hornes of Vnicornes that precious be are mine though they do weare them for my sake Plants Vertue haue not for themselues but me so things of eu'ry suite me Prime doe make What would I more there 's nought hath being got on or in Earth in Water or in Aire That eyther feedes or heales or sports me not so that this World doth nought but me repaire If I the Elementall World transcend to view the Heau'nly Orbes what Wonders There Sunne Moone and Stars I see who all attend but for my good for which they framed were For me alone they influence impart to these inferiour Bodies seruing mine For me doth Time himselfe in pieces part that I beyond Time might be wholy thine Nay let me passe the nine-fold Orbes of Heau'n and to thy sacred Mansion let me flee For whom had all thine Angels essence giu'n But for thy seruice and to waite on me To backe me and defend me from my Foes to hold me vp when ere I did decline To comfort me in Soule-afflicting Woes and to thy presence bring my Soule in fine Now if the Ends for which Things formed were be better then the Things for so they be Then better than the Angels Men appeare sith they it seemes for men were made by Thee And Men and Angels fell through onely Pride but for deare Mans Redemption thou didd'st die Yet for no one of th' Angels hast thou di'd which much augments mans hope and dignitie O then what Heart can once but thought-conceiue in what strict Tearmes I stand obleig'd to thee Sith me thou mad'st most Glory to receiue through mee as through the Eye Men glory see Wake wake thy selfe my Soule why sleep'st thou stil see who it is that hath thus done for whom Not for the Angels which obey his Will but for thee sinfull Soule his choisest Home Cast if thou canst a Number numberlesse and count his gifts with Stars or with Sea-sand The bottome gage of his Grace bottomlesse Or if thou canst not wonder-mazed stand Yet stand thou with and for Him while thou art that is as long as he himselfe exists That is while GOD hath but an humane Heart which is but while Eternitie consists As God is GOD he hath no Heart at all but as true Man he is he hath Mans Heart Then GOD and MAN can ne'er asunder fall though Men from GOD themselues too often part But GOD that hast Mans Heart and so hast mine sith I am Man although a sinfull one Still let thy Heart be mine and mine be thine that I may haue no Heart to grieue our owne I greatly doe desire with great desire to praise and loue thee GOD Mans harts repose But Praise and Loue in Mouth and Heart of mire through foulenes of that filth their grace do lose But sith all Creaetures thou hast made for mee for whatsoe'er is made I owe the same I le call on them with me to call on THEE to giue me grace to loue and praise thy Name Then ô yee all his Workes your voyces reare with man his master-piece that He would grant To me his Grace to sound his praises cleare and to supply in Loue my louings want To make my Mouth pure fit to hold his praise and make my Heart cleane meete to lodge his loue That Heart and mouth may so his glory raise while I his Grace in grace or glory proue That I in Grace and Glory may be knowne To liue but for that praise and loue alone A Meditation gratulatory for our redemption WHen I excogitate the great Good-turnes thou hast done for me ô extreamest Good With heate of Zeale my seathing Marrow burnes and flames of seruent Loue doe boile my bloud Especially for that when thou had'st form'd my Soule and body I deforming each Thou with thine own dierewrack hast me reform'd and with thy precious bloud becam'st my Leach Thou mightst for e'er haue banish'd me thy sight with the proud Angel and his cursed Crue For my fault was like his but more vnright then to the same a greater Plague was due And that thou hast not onely spar'd my Paine but therewithall bought endlesse blisse for me So that my Fall doth fall out to my gaine I am in straightest bonds oblieg'd to Thee And for thou mad'st me me to thee I owe sith thou redeem'd me much more owe I thee And would ô would I could my selfe bestovv to pay that More that 's lesse then due from me And so much more thou ought'st to be belou'd by how much greater were thy griefes and state And how much lesse then ought'st to be reprou'd whose life was more then most immaculate Who What and Wherefore dost thou suffer Lord and who
Wonders of thy Law they cannot finde Thy Will then shewne and hidden in thy Word is hid though shewne from those not prompt by thee Though Camels there may swim and Gnats may ford yet both may drowne if there too bold they be In shallow'st places there great Clarkes haue suncke into the depth of Heresie and drew Whole Nations after them yea made Kings drunke therewith while they Beleeuers-right pursue So then as none could euer see the Sunne but by the Sunne so none can rightly see Thee in thy Word but by reflexion of that pure Light of Lights that comes from thee If so then light me in that Light thy Word sith thou art Light of lights else may mine Eyes Be daz'led and so drowne me in each Ford of those pure Riuers of thy Paradise Thy Word is Truth but those it doth misguide that know not well thy Language nor will know Sith they will learne but of them selues and Pride so not thy Word but they are erring so None can be sau'd without they doe thy Will which none can doe vnlesse the same they know And none can know it much lesse it fulfill if it by speciall grace thou doe not show Then if thou wilt that I shall saued be for thou wilt no mans Death that seekes thy face Let me be taught to know thy Will by thee and made to doe it by thy Pow'r and Grace So shall I finde what I am seeking still To know Thee well and well to doe thy Will An Inuocation against vse of offending or bad Custome DEare Lord while I bethinke me of the Ils that me surround and waigh the Woes I feele Through mine owne fault which me with Sorrow fils from Life to Death I ready am to reele The Sunne of my Care-clouded life hath past his full Meridian and doth now decline To Seas of griefes where Age doth sincke at last and at each breath Death seekes it to define Vse of offending in my passed Dayes doth passe my strēgth to change thogh faine I wold Custome to Nature turn'd my Nature swayes and of my selfe the while I haue no hold Yet if I dye ere so bad vse I leaue my life must leaue me hopelesse at my death For what I giue to GOD I shall receiue and as I spend so shall I yeeld my Breath I minde to mend but still procrastinate for my Familiar Sinne is loth to part And doth my halfe-dead body animate to vse her still so wounds and heales my Heart But sith I am not sure to breath once more and that my life and death are well-neere met And Death t'eternall Weale or woe 's the Doore why sinne I now my lifes Sunne neere is set What is in Sinne that it should so be witch A bitter-sweete if Sweete it be and makes The Body glad but still the Soule to grutch and eu'n from life the vitall-vertue takes The wisest yet that euer breath'd this Aire of Humane Race well tride it to be so Whose equall Wealth and Wisedome did repaire to all in Nature but this Sweete to know And yet he found the Sow'r excell'd the Sweet the Sweet but short the Sow'r surmounting Time Wee want his Meanes his high Delights to meete yet hazard we our soules to them to climbe Lord make me wise by his experience who in great wealth and Wisedome plaid the Foole And for meere Folly was at huge expence then let his follies me still wisely schoole Yea let me learne of Him that all doth teach of whom the wisest learne Sinnes snares to shunne He was a King and Preacher and did preach that All is vanitie beneath the Sunne If all be vaine beneath and true he sayes let me aboue the Sunne seeke true delight Which I shall finde by walking in thy Wayes so thou deare Lord consort me with thy Spright O then consort me so and with his pow'r enable me all lets to ouer-runne Let me not stay one Minute of an How'r to ioy in any thing beneath the Sunne But in thy Sunne of Iustice let me ioy which fils the Heau'ns and Earth with purest light Then let all other ioyes my soule annoy that so in him I may alone delight Thou canst doe this then doubt I not thy Will Which still is good then my good-will fulfill The Sinner refers his Will to Gods will in all things desiring helpe for perseuerance therein DEare Lord and God true Louer of my Soule in my desires I wholy doe resigne vnto thy blessed Will this Will of mine To forme reforme direct and still controule And as my Soule my body moues alone without whose motion it would still be still so let thy Sp'rit still moue my soule and will Else let them haue no motion of their owne Let me forsake my selfe for thy deare sake yea truely hate my selfe for loue of thee and let no pleasures please or profit me If thou deare Lord at them displeasure take I offer vnto thee mine All and more had I much more than All to mortifie my senses and affections that thereby I may so mortifide liue euermore My selfe I likewise offer to the lack of sensible deuotion grace and loue so it may humble me and make me proue Thy might the more in my sinnes vtter wracke I offer too my selfe with prompt desire t' indure all losse in name fame goods and friends all pleasure paine and what else flesh offends That by their waight my sp'rit may mount the higher In summe I offer vp my selfe aboue my selfe to all mischance that can befall saue sinne alone yet if thy goodnesse shall Put me in Hell I le brooke it for thy Loue. And though it be impossible for Flesh to suffer it yet should my Will be prest If thou would'st haue it so in Hell to rest For Loue in quenchlesse flames can sense refresh Then loue me Lord and still my loue enflame then put me where thou wilt I le there abide without repining ire or ghostly pride With Martyrs that in torments laud thy Name But sith by reason of my Flesh too fraile I cannot be so prompt these paines to brooke then help me Lord but with a louing looke And ouer Death and Hell I shall preuaile Looke kindly on me then deare Lord and so Our Wils shall still be one in weale and woe The Sinner desires fruition of the Deitie and that his Soule should be euer the habitation thereof ETernall LORD who art more prompt to heare then Faith to pray of that great grace of thine Regard the Boone I aske in Loue and Feare and to mine humble suite thine eares incline Grant me fruition of thy DEITIE that all my Soule may so be satisfied For lesse then that can her not satisfie though all els boundlesse were still amplifide Those gifts and graces that thy Grace may moue t' inhabit my poore Soule vouchsafe thou me That with thy gifts thy grace may be in Loue and loue my Soule for harbring them and thee But in those gifts
nothing more then sinne Lord help me in this strange extremitie of crosse desires which in my Soule are found My Will is bound to Sinne but would be free then if it would how should my Will be bound Were it my Flesh alone desir'd to sinne my Soule resisting t' were not so amisse Such crosse desires in thy best Saints haue bin but in my Soule my Sinne conceiued is And yet shee 's barraine gauly and impure of emptinesse not emptie and thereby A soulelesse Soule so lifelesse doth endure yet liues in Death because she cannot dye Then empt mine empty Soule for Sinne doth fill with nought but vacuum her capatious thought For Sinne is nothing sith thou mad'st not Ill without whom nought was made then empt this nought For t is that Law though nought that still rebels against both grace and natures Gouernment This lawlesse Law my members still compels to bowe as Sinnes vnrighteous Rule is bent Lord I beleeue yet help mine vnbeliefe and well doe will yet better my desire Cure thou the Wound my Will receiu'd in chiefe through Adams Fall and make our Wils entire Giue me both Will and Pow'r to doe thy Will and let me neither haue to crosse the same For when I see my Will would thine fulfill yet doth it not I pine with griefe and shame I cannot will aright but right resist without thy grace preuent my crooked will And willing well without thy grace assist I cannot for my bloud my will fulfill So thy preuenting and assisting grace makes my Will worke for of my selfe I am So fraile by nature and so beastly base that my best thoghts are more then much too blame Then let thy Grace my wayward Will preuent and helpe me to performe it so preuented Yea make my thoughts and deedes most innocent else let me ioy in nought but them lamented Nay make my Heart deare Lord so apt to waile That it may weepe when I to weepe doe faile The Sinner desireth not to be as he is but as he ought to be TO be all nought is nought at all to be and to be sinfull still is to be nought Yet Sinners ARE though dead in sinne we see as Men ARE though they are not as thy ought Deliuer me deare Lord from being such such being take from me that sinfull is For better nothing be then be so much because so much is more then most amisse Then let me be not as I am but what I ought to Be or take me as I am Take me to Thee and then I will be that I ought to be thine owne in Deed and Name For then I am when I am wholy thine But I am not while I am Sinnes or Mine In respect of the breuitie and vncertaintie of mortall life the Sinner desires grace in time to prepare for Death MY stupid Soule now recollect thy pow'rs weigh in Iudgements Scales thy present state Thou in thy Iaile my Flesh but some few howres hast now to stay by nature neere her date My Pilgrimage is almost past ô then it thee behooues to looke with stedfast eyes Towards thy Countrey Home of Happy-men least ere thou looke in straying pathes thou dye Now faints my force my sense impaires my flesh like wither'd fruit now falleth with each breath Some Birds o'er-aged doe their youth refresh but Man growne Twâ—-childe is at doore of death The Young-man may dye quickely but the Olde can not liue long misse-haps may wracke the one But nought in Arte or Nature long can hold the other here for they are almost gone Then if green yeers should somtimes mind the graue the Gray must still that there are with a breath For Age to Death is but the Gally-slaue that on a moments fluxe whafts life to death To serue the World although I able were small cause haue I to will it sith it is The ground which nought but ranckest Ils doth beare and where men most esteemed are most amisse I long haue cultur'd this but flinty-field which yeelds but Crops of Cares Woes wrongs and spight Yeelding the more annoy the more they yeeld whose very Ioyes are Tares that pine the Spright Then it is time to change by heauenly Arte the thriftlesse course of so course Husbandry And with Remorse to furrow vp my Heart melting the Clods with teares that are too dry And so to sow Loues seedes that faire encrease to fat the Soule in vertue till shee melt In flames of Charitie till Faith doth cease to giue more taste of heauenly pleasures selt And sith my Spring is spent my Summer past and to the Fall of leafe my Tyme arriues Nay sith his frost Time on my Head hath cast I must prepare for cold that life depriues My negligence hath made sinnes Earth my Heart to yeeld but poysonous Weeds of thoughts impure Which doe but bane my Soule and get the start of Vertue in their growth by Customes pow'r Meane while my flesh with heat of youth bloud hath shrunke from cherishing their root yet lo The Marrow of my Bones doth yeeld them foode so thogh I shrink they through that compost grow And as one tost at Sea with Stormes and feares makes little way though much he be turmoild So he in vice that past hath many yeeres hath had long time but life as short as soild For Life is measur'd by the good we doe not dayes we spend sith some by many dayes Get many Deaths as some haue come vnto Eternall Life by short Life spent with praise What is a Soulelesse Body but a Clod and what 's the Soule without her cause and life But quicke to Sinne and dead to Grace and God Hell to it selfe selfe-Hell or Hell of strife He is the Way besides which all are wide the Truth against which all in errour dwell The Life without which all in death abide in whom to be is onely to be well O then deare Lord let me beginne to liue now in my dying though hard late it be Yet better late then neuer to reuiue me dead in sinne by mortifying me It 's hard I grant that after life's neere spent in mortall Sinne immortall life t' expect Yet Lord how euer late let me repent while Aire I breathe and doe it not reiect Yet Loue must cause remorse and hate of Sinne for true contrition which true life dorh giue Is caus'd by Loue sith we so bad haue beene t' a God so good that di'd to make vs liue Then loue my Soule for no ends but thine END By-purposes are purposelesse for ONE That knowes all Hearts Remorse doth but offend that is not for his Loue conceiu'd alone Then to be truely contrite hard it is sith it respects but Loue that Grace allures Whereof in but a scruple if we misse it 's but Attrition which lesse Grace procures O Death how sowre is thy rememberance to him whose Soule is swolne with sweetest Sinne And hath thereof a feeling I perchance haue so in shew but more
Gods Note-Booke cleane are crost Whose sins are couer'd so with Clemencie that they are hid so seeme they to be lost And blest is he to whom the God of Grace imputes no Sinne for so he shall be cleare How e'er defil'd and in whose sp'rit no base deceit shall once so much as but appeare For while I held my peace that caus'd my Warre for Death with Silence in such passion striues My bodies Props my Bones consumed are while all the day I grone in Sorrowes Giues For day and night thy Hand great God doth lye like Lead vpon my weaknesse who haue bin Conuerted into selfe Calamitie whiles the Thorne prickt me or my stinging sin But lo my faults to thee I haue reueal'd haue not clockt my crimes which thou dost hide But I confesse those Sinnes thou hast conceal'd sith my misdeedes shall so be iustifide Thus shall each pious person pray to thee in fitting time yer Mercies Gate be sparr'd But when the Inundations swelling be of many Waters they from Him are barr'd My fence ô Lord lies onely in thy Hands when troubles me assaile with fiercest woe Then ô preserue me from the impious Bands that me inclose in death to close me so I will saist thou deare Sweete instruct thee still and guide thee in thy way ô homed Words Thine Eye thou saist shall me defend from ill and watch to guard me from my foe-mens Swords Then be ô be not like an Horse or Mule that are as rude as vnintelligent Lord bridle them thy Snafle will not rule till they be rul'd or else be made repent The Plagues are great most great and manifold that doe the Sinner euermore attend But who with Hands oâ— Hope on God layes hold his boundlesse Mercy him will comprehend In Him therefore yee Righteous still be glad for he in Griefe still glads the righteous Soule Exult all ye that for your Sinnes are sad and all true Hearts that stoupe to his controule To God the Father glory be therefore and to the Sonne and their coequall Spirit As it was is and shall be euermore World without end for they are infinite Domine ne in furore Psal. 38. Dauid lying sicke of some grieuous disease acknowledgeth himselfe to be chastised of God for his sinnes and therefore prayeth God to turne away his wrath He vttereth the greatnesse of his griefes by many words and circumstances as wounded with the arrowes of Gods ire forsaken of his friends â—uill intreated of his enemies But in the end with firme confidence he commendeth his cause to God and hopeth for speedy help at his hand LOrd checke me not vntill thy rage be past nor chastise me in thine incensâ—d â—re For in my Flesh thy Shafts are fixed fast and thy Hand quels me that would faine aspire Thy Wrath hath fill'd my Flesh with all annoy for Sinne 's the sore the salue sore-sicknesse is And in my bones I can no rest enioy because their Marrow them hath mou'd amisse For mine ambitious Sinnes climbe o'er my Head and as a breake-necke Burden me oppresse My wounds which they haue made with filth are fed and ranckled sore through my worse foolishnesse I am made crooked vnderneath this loade deform'd and wretched yea it breakes my backe So all the day with griefe I make aboad or mourning goe as those that comfort lacke For ah my Ioynes that lodg'd but Sinne before now harbour nought but restlesse Malady No health is in my flesh for all is sore so sore that anguish makes me roaring cry But Lord thou know'st the Summe of my desires because my Plaints still tell it in thine eares My Heart is vext my strength from me retires nay more mine Eyes are blinded with my teares My friends in shew when thou didst fauour me like foes in deed now me poore me withstand Nay those in bloud that were my neerest be now furthest off and lend nor heart nor hand And they that seeke my life lay Traps to take that life or at the least me to vndoe And but of guile and spoile they euer speake and put in practise what they speake of too But I poore I as deafe would nothing heare for poore Soules must not hear what must offend And as one dumbe I still my selfe did beare that gaue no more reproofes then eare did lend Yet is my hope in thee that hearest all my sighes and grones sith they increase for Sinne. Then let mine Enemies ne'er see my fall who when I doe but trip triumph therein I am at point to perish and my Woes and cause thereof I euer beare in minde For I with griefe confesse mine ouerthrowes that lost thy Grace which now I seeke to finde But still my Foes doe liue and strong are made strong in their friends their places purse and armes And they that hate me causelesse and inuade me forcelesse many be the more my harmes They monsters likewise that doe ill for good oppose me still sith goodnesse I ensue Then haste thee Lord to help me so withstood and leaue me not among this cursed crue To God the Father which we doe adore and to the Sonne and to their blessed Spirit All glory be as it was heretofore is and still shall be through Worlds infinite Miserere mei Deus Psal. 51. When Dauid was rebuked by the Prophet Nathan for his great offences he did not onely acknowledge the same to God with protestation of his naturall corruption and iniquitie but also left a memoriall thereof to his posteritie Therefore first he desireth God to forgiue his sinnes and to renue in him his holy Spirit with promise that he will not be vnmindfull of those great graces Finally fearing lest God would punish the whole Church for his fault he requireth that hee would rather increase his graces toward the same GReat God of Gods whose Mercy is as great haue mercy on me wretch whose Sin exceeds Yet after thy compassion so compleate wash out the blots of my too foule misdeedes O clense me from the filth of mine offence that ranckles in my Conscience all defilde With all that may depraue both Soule and Sense that purg'd I may to thee be reconcil'd For I acknowledge mine iniquitie sith still my Sinne 's the obiect of my sight And by the pow'r of mine impiety I wrong thy grace and still impugne thy Sp'rit Against thee onely I in sinne abide and done what doth condemne me in thy sight That in thy Words thou maist be iustifide and ouercome when thou art iudg'd vnright For nought but wickednesse prepar'd the way to my conception which to worse did passe Then ere I was I stood at sinfull stay and when I fell to Being worser was This Lord is true confessing which doth moue thy Grace to me thy Wisedome hid to show Then sprinckle me with Isop in thy Loue and so I shall be whiter farre than Snow Vnto mine Eares invred but to heare what Eares corrupts thou shalt but Ioy obiect So shall
procures the Fathers loue and grace and so gets glory by such gracelesse scarres So God desirous more to haue vs kinde than comely Children thrusts vs in his Warres As we were but to fire and sword assign'd He takes more pleasure in the great'st annoyes We haue for him then in our ghostly ioyes Each Danger for our Mistresse vnder-tane seemes most secure and pleasant deadli'st paine The Wounds both for from her though but bane seeme honied-sweet and losse for her is gaine The colours that she likes we most doe loue her words meere Oracles her spot no staine Her actions Patternes ours to shape and proue All her perfections past Superlatiues And imperfections least Diminutiues And shall we doe and thinke all this and more but for a shade of Beautie and endure Nothing for Beauties Substance nor adore the CREATOR but in the Creäture O! t is a shame that Reas'n should be so mad in men of minde for loue if it be true Will most affect what 's rarest to be had The Obiect of true Loue is greatest GOOD If lesse she loues it ill is vnderstood With our Soules Eye if Christ our peace be view'd true loue shall see a Soule-afflicting sight His head with bloud that thornes do broach imbrude his Eares with Blasphemies his Eyes with Spight His Mouth with gall his Members all with wounds his Heart with griefe and all in all vnright Yea so vnright as Iustice quite confounds Yet mans Ingratitude doth griue him more Then all these Plagues as manifold as sore And ô for whom doth he the same endure for Man begot in filth in darkenesse form'd With throwes brought forth brought forth most vnpure whose child-hood's but a dreame with pains enorm'd His youth but rage his man-hood ceaselesse fight his Age meere sicknesse all his life vnsure And worst of all his death is full of fright This this is he for whom Heau'ns God endures All shame and paine that paine and shame procures W' are no where safe where we may fall to sinne in Heau'n nor Paradise with men much lesse In Heau'n fell Angels Paradise within the first man fell throgh whom all men transgresse In the World Iudas from his Lord did fall so no place can defend from Wretchednesse But he that place confines and holds vp All For who from worse to better fals he may From better fall to worse without his stay If Crosses trauerse not our Comforts then we ought to crosse our selues as many did That were Men Angel-like or Gods with men who hardly liu'd in Dens and Deserts hid Fed little and slept lesse in Sacke-cloth clad to minde them that to mourne they here were bid So chose foâ—d place and suite as suites the sad To sing in Babilon being Abrahams Seede Is to forget our Bondage and our Creede Heau'n is our natiue Home our Canaan Earth's but the shade of Death or vale of Teares Then mirth in place of moaue but kils a man at point of Death hee 's mad that Musicke neares Therefore those Saints discreete sad â—obâ—r Soules reiected all that Sense to Life endeâ—râ—s And liue as buried quicke in â—aues likâ— Moâ—es Iâ— Weapons lâ—sâ—e doe wâ—und thâ—n sâ—arpeâ—t praise Lesâ—e huâ—ts lamenting then the Syrens â—ayes And as Men longing at Noone-day to see the Lamps of Heau'n descend into a Well As deepe as darke that so their sight may be the more contracted smallest Stars to tell So pious mâ—n that faine would fixe their Eyes still on the Stars the Saints in Heauen that dwell Descend in Earth to low'st Obscurities For to a louing Soule all labour 's sweet That tends although in Hell her Loue to meet Low is our Way but our Home most sublime if home we wouâ—d thâ—n this low Way is best Which yet growes steepe â—omewhere and hard to climbe yet Loue o'ercomes it eternall Rest Vaine pleasures are like Gold throwne in our Way and while to gather it we stoupe at least It let 's vs and our Iudgements doth betray But if on Heau'n our mindes be altogether Nothing shall let our Bodyes going thither Which way goe you saith Christ to those that stray I am the WAY and whither will you wend I am the TRVTH or else where will you stay I am the LIFE that is your Iournyes end Now if this Way doe lead o'er steepes and plaines If this Truth teach vs rising to descend If this Life be not got but with our paines Then wo to them that laugh sith weepe should al And blessed they that weepe for laugh they shall We should be therefore like th' Egytian Dogs that drinke of Nilus running lest they should By staying much to drinke like greedy Hogs the Crocodile might haue them so in hold Nature doth teach them reas'nlesse what to doe then shall not grace worke much more manifold With humane Creatures that diuine are too It should then we are mad or reason lacke to quench our thirst of hauing with our wracke What is 't to haue much more than Nature needes but to haue more then Nature well can beare Like one that 's deadly drunke or ouer-feedes whose excesse makes his Death excessiue cheare Enough then should be better then a feast sith more is mortall howsoeuer deare For Nature cannot well so much digest Much lesse then little onely makes her grutch Enough maintaines her better than too much Besides in vs Sinne is more odious growne then in the Diuell for his was but one sinne Ours numberlesse his yer Reuenge was knowne ours when we knew it and might fauor winne In Innocence created sinned he but we when to 't we had restored bin In malice he of God forsooke but we when GOD recall'd vs to his sauing Grace He damn'd we sau'd yet were in worser Case For we were sau'd in possibilitie but he condemn'd so could not saued be He sinn'd gainst one that him did straitly tye but we worse fâ—ends gainst one that made vs free Against one he that doom'd him second-death but we gainst one that dide for vs so he Sinn'd lesse than we which Hope quite banisheth Did not the time we liue in stirre vs thrals To call for Grace that comes if griefe but cals He that of Sinne doth know the large extent and Hell of Hels the Soule incurres thereby Shall little feele his Bodyes punishment though he in life a thousand dâ—athes should dye Which borne with Patience for his Sauiours loue quite abrogate his pass'd impietie And future sinnes and paines from him doth shoue Immortall paines extreame in qualitie Annihilate all mortals quantitie Our Faith in the beginning thinne was sowne in the afflicti'on shame and death of Christ And then with Martyrs Bloud t' was ouer-flowne nor can it grow or prosper to the high'st Without showres ceaslesse gushing from their wounds then what art thou that soone thy Faith deni'st For feare of death that but thy Iudge confounds O! I am he the frail'st of flesh and bloud That liues for ill and
doâ— bestow a Wise-mans â—ee Which thâ—se wise Seers onely doe fore-see Sinfull Curiositie had rather be acquainted with the Diuell then with God or his Saints HAue any made a Cou'nant with blacke Hell and are Familiar with infernall Sprights They shall be sought to wheresoe'er they dwell for many Soules desire to see those sights But liues Elias most familiar with GOD and Heau'n where great ones most frequent He liues as in his firie Câ—ach he were for none comes neere so meere an Innocent Thus doth the Diuell Lord it o'er the Aire and those that most doe prize It while his slaues Are more sought to then Saints or Angels faire though such Fiends bideing be among the graues Then what so senselesse as the World to take Delight in Diu'ls and in Hell for their sake Againe of the same WEre Bacon and that Vandermast aliue Aire if liue they did where Men might draw but They with a mischieâ—e wold much more than thriue for they would smothred be with Mens repaire Some Bladuds would inuest them with their Robes nay Crowne them too to learne them but to flye That so they might but glide about the Globes to be admir'd for Iack-dawes qualitie So much Men singularitie affect that to be singular though but in Toyes They 'l freâ—ly giue what they doe most respect so much their inward Man loues outward Ioyes Nay Men to Hell will creep from out the Croude Ere they 'l be drowned in the Multitude That Persecutors of Truth are their owne Tormentors IF Vertues Sonnes be plagu'd with Vices Broode sith they by Nature still doe disagree It 's for the vicious plague and vertuous good which both shall here or else-where shortly see If our good life our Enemies encrease that bad encrease in that great good is drown'd Who fight against themselues but for our Peace and through our Weeds their Hearts and Soules do wound Our Sauiour through his Death did Death subdue to make vs conquer by enduring strife Then what though They to Death doe vs pursue when through our Death they dye to giue vs liâ—e But with such proofes none but such Saints are prou'd That of his Iudge in death was fear'd and lou'd The righteous in Ioy or Griefe Life or Death GOD keepes as his Treasure FEll Malice most of her owne Poison drinkes for them she plagues doe sippe but of the toppe But she of that which to the Bottome sinckes to worke in Her Perdition without Hope Impietie and Plagues are of an age being burnt not in the Hand but in the Heart For who against the good doe battaile wage shall perish through his pow'r that takes their part And if for vertue Men are made away GOD takes for sacrifice their sufferings But when by course of Nature they decay he then receiues them as Peace-offerings So that in life and death the righteous rest As th' Apple of his Eye as safe as blest That mens Deuotions towards God and Goodnesse are most mutable NOught in our Life endures so many Turnes as our Deuotion off on in and out Now cold as Yce and by and by It burnes scarse in one moode while we can turne about If good we heare perhaps we thinke thereon but be it ill ill past perhaps we minde Thus rowle we euer like a thriftlesse stone till Death vs stay by force or Course of kinde From Sinne to Sinne as Flies from sore to sore we still doe shift the best Men Men are still The worst are worse than Beasts to kill or store for they are leaue in good but fat in ill Then blest are they that neyther fat nor leaue Haue rowl'd to Rest but with the Golden-meane To my most honored and approued best Friend and Alye Sr. Fran Louell Knâ—ght God takes the Will for the Deede ALthough we doe not all the good we loue but still in loue desire to doe â—he same Nor leaue the Sinnes we hate but â—â—â—ing moue our Soule and Bodyes Pow'rs their forcâ— to tame The good wee doe GOD takes as done aright that we desire to doe He takes as done The Sinne we shunne He will with Grace requiâ—e and not impute the Sinne we seeke to shunne But good Desires produce no worser Deedes for GOD doth both together lightly giue Because He knowes a righteous Man must needes by Faith that workes by Loue for euer liue then to doe nought but onely in desire Is Loue that burnes but burnes like painted fire The Vertuous liue well for Vertues sake the Vicious for feare of Punishment THree things in Iudgement haue obserued bin to woâ—k with wicked ones shame griefe feare And yet without shame griefe or feare they sinne till Iudgement strict beginneth to appeare If Iudgement then haue force t'extort these three they haue no Iudgement that will not preuent This sore Extortion with an easie fee that is liue well if not then well repent But are these two performed with such ease Gods Yâ—ake is easie and his burden light And such as cannot well away with these can neyther liue well nor repent aright But if they cannot much lesse can they beare What Iudgement wil extort shame griefe feare That there is no peace to the Wicked THe Wickeds rest is like the raging Deepe whose smoothest Peace is rough intestine War With whose Alar'ms they often start in sleepe whose Heart-strings with such fretting Stops doe iarre Yet as the Sea seemes calme as other Brookes till Windes arise wherewith they rage as mad So oft the Wicked-man as smoothly lookes in prosperous state as he whom GOD doth glad And in this plight he Saint it can aswell at least in shew as can the holiest Saint Yea can for glory in Good-workes excell and Pietie in Word and Deed depaint But when Afflictions flawes beginne to blow He playes the Diuell both in Deed and Show That a vexed Conscience is the onely Hell on Earth THe Bodies rest doth most disease the Soule that is diseased with Sinnes sorest Sting For then the Thoughts about that Pricke doe roule and to the Soule an Hell of Horror bring The Minde then looking into Fancies Mirrour sees nothing there but Sinne that sits a-Broode On grimme Chimaeraes and sights full of horror so to confound the Minde or mad her mood For when Sinne onely fronts the Phantasie that Glasse reflects these horrid Formes by kinde Then when the body most alone doth lye these Monsters muster most about the Minde O! Plague of plagues when Sense nor Reas'n can spye A Reall Obiect from a Phantasie Phantasie a great Comforter or Tormenter GIue me Iobs Botches Naamans Leprosie nay giue me All that plagues the outward sense Rather then Terrors of the Phantasie crawling from out an Hell of Conscience And giue me all the Hels the Damn'd endure this Hell alone excepted I will be Able to make them Heau'ns in Conscience pure through Operations of the Phantasie Asleepe awake in Company alone past-vnderstanding Peace and Ioyes past Ioy In our Mindes Kingdome
doth play One dyes with Sicknesse Thought another kils With Hunger this with Thirst that man doth pine Some Water choakes an Halter others spils Some Fire consumes some Beasts deuoure in fine This man he murders with the ruthlesse Sword That man with Poyson he doth suffocate With Bullet this that with a bitter Word He ends and others end with worser Fate No Flesh though fram'd in height of Natures skill With composition more then halfe diuine But it is subiect made to death vntill Th' Immortall doe that mortall flesh refine Thus all he ends yet none their ends fore-know A secret t' is to Death himselfe vnknowne Whom he must strike thy finger Lord must show Nor dares he shoot til thou the Mark hast showne To some he is thy mercies Minister To other some the Engine of thy wrath This sadnesse to my Soule doth minister For bleeding Conscience many faintings hath But wash the same with thy sweet mercies dewe And it annoint with vnction spirituall Then health and rest and peace shall straight ensue Which to my Conscience will be cordiall I haue discourst to thine all-hearing Eares My dismall plight in dolefull Elegie With Tragick accents accents causing teares Sad teares attending matchlesse misery Thy pitties Eare therefore bowe downe O Lord To these most pensiue and most iust complaints Let mercies Eyes with pitties Eares accord To chear the conscience that with bleeding faints In hope were of my soule shall rest in peace Till thou vouchsafe to send her full release A Confession of a Sinner acknowledging the misery of humane frailtie CElestiall Lord Creator of this ALL Embracer Prop and Ruler of the same Whose vnseene Eye beholds the generall And singly seest at once this double Frame O vaile that Christall-cleere all-seeing eye On vtter-darknesse that Lord that am I. Mine Intellect is darke darke my soules sight My body darke darke dungeon of my soule Is opposite for darknesse to thy light What can be darker or more vgly foule Thus darknesse striuing much more darke to be Hell being too light infus'd it selfe in me O Iustice Sunne with Taper pointed beames Dart through this Darknesse open loopes for light By which the influence of thy lights leames Through my darke soule may be dispersed quight For what is that which extreame darknes cleares But extreame light of lights when it appeares Where extreame darknesse harbours there is Hell In me deare Lord of Heauen that hell is plac't My heart hard hart wherein all horrors dwell With vexing thoughts like Fiends away doth wast My Conscience quite confounded with my misse Is lowest Hell where highest Anguish is Descend sweet Christ and harrow with thy Crosse This hell of Conscience flee my soule from thence It is thine owne deare Lord it is thy losse If it doe perish through my sinnes offence Why sinne is nothing then for thing of nought Lose not my soule poore purchase dearly boght In Deaths dark shade o'er-shadowed with my sinne Vpon the black pit brinck of deepe Despaire I lye deare Lord halfe out but more halfe in Help help ô help Lord heare Lord heare my prayer Now now ô now if euer help me now I sincke I sincke help ere I sincke too low Remember Lord Lord call to minde againe The drops strange drops of Water mixt with Bloud Which from thy paine-prest Body ranne amaine What time on ground it lay in pensiue moode If then thou praid'st that Cup might passe froÌ„ thee I well may pray let this Cup passe from mee A Cup of cares confected by sowre sinne Baning my Soule with bitter operation Let this Cup passe before I doe beginne Least it effect my crazed soules damnation O thou that felt'st fraile mans infirmitie Respect fraile Me else in despaire I die Whose Faith too like a feather in the winde Is tossed with the least temptations blast With doubtings daunted when the faithfull finde A calme in conscience till such stormes are past But I vile wretch am tossed to and fro With eu'ry Storme that rise or Blast that blow See Lord ah see see see how all my Veynes Do pant with paine through sense of my misdeedes Behold my Heart wherein all sorrow raignes Griefe-wounded heart behold it how it bleedes O poure therein thy precious Balmes of grace That from thy wounded Heart doe runne apace Where 's Much forgiu'n Loue must there be much Forgiue me Much much more shall be my loueâ— I haue Much to forgiue no sinner such My Sinne surmounting Loue shall be aboue Forgiue me then and I in Loue will striue To match that more then Much thou dost forgiue Be thou for me vnto the Old of dayes My Daysman so to stay his angers heate That for thy sake he would vouchsafe to raise His vengeance siege which my Soules wrack doth threat O tel him to his Grace I weakling yeeld And giue him praise and glory of the Field O pray him bend his pu'sance on the proud Whose brazen Necks will rather breake then bowe I creeping on my knees doe seeke for shrowde Till Tempests of his fury ouer-blow And like a Spaniell at his Maisters threat In humble wise fall prostrate at his feete With eyes vp-lifted slowly by degrees And lifted so are throwne downe straight againe With face confounded on his humbled knees Inuoking mercy yet doth mute remaine O so euen so doe I poore wretched I At foote but of his Foote-stoole crowching lye If this may moue and mouing may prouoke Thy sans-beginning Sire in Loue to stay Of his iust vengeance the resistlesse stroke A touch whereof doth Rockes to poâ—der bray I will ascribe the praise ô Christ to thee Sith for thy sake alone he spareth me My strength 's not stony nor my flesh yet brasse O no then weaknesse much more weake it is Apt still to fall more brittle farre then glasse Compos'd of that that 's more then most amisse O how vnable then am I to beare His heauy vengeance stroke that rocks doth teare With hands of Mercie stay my sincking Soule Which were in mercy mercilesly wounded For me vile wretch and for my trespasse foule That Grace might o'er abound where Sin abounded They are not shortned since they racked were For Sinne that Sinne might sinnelesse so appeare With those same hands deare Lord my Soule sustain Opprest with Poâ—se that made thy man-hood grone My load 's as great though farre lesse be my paine Whose sinne 's as great as all the worlds alone Then Worlds of Sin when on my backe I beare What meruell is 't I faint if not despaire Froth of Infirmitie and Weaknesse skumme I am no other how then should I beare The heauy sentence of true Iustice doome If to this Load of Sinne it added were None but a God and Man can beare that waight Sith God Man bow'd vnder-neath that fraight I am farre spent ô be not farre from me I panting labour neere the latest gaspe My Soule dismai'd not knowing where to flee With hands of Hope wan
thou and who am I that can moue Heau'ns God t'immure himselfe in misery That thou whose Glory Glory it selfe admires Sholdst deigne to dwel in durt more vile then dung Sith Holinesse sweet Lord thy House requires Which hardly rests where many vices throng Heau'n is thy Seate the Earth thy Footstoole is For Heau'n and Earth thy Maiestie doth fill Then why great God art thou well pleas'd with this That thou art made but Mud for mire so ill For if the Heau'n nay Heau'n of Heauens be But too too small thy greatnesse to containe Then how can my heart lesse then nought hold thee How in a Bit of Wormes-meate canst thou raigne O Wonder that all Maruels farre surmounts He that vpon the Cherubins doth ride And viewes all Deeps from thence himself dismounts That he may in my Heart deepe Hell abide It not suffiz'd thy glowing Charitie To giue me Angels for my Guards and Guides Nay wast not onely pleas'd for me to dye But dwelst in me to giue me life besides There dost thou visit in the kindest kinde The Sicke sore sicke to giue him health thereby Sore sick in Body but more sicke in Minde And raise the Dead that willingly did dye My Soule exulteth with ioy rauished When as I minde that Miracle how once A Prophets dead Bones rais'd to life the Dead Onely by touching those life-giuing Bones If those dead Bones had such reuiuing pow'r Then what shall not Gods liuing Body doe The liuing Body of Lifes Gouernour Must needes giue endlesse Life and Glory too And if dead Bones conceiued in Sinne haue might To giue life to a sinfull Bodie dead What shall that doe conceiued by thy Spirit That must needs life-inspire eu'n senselesse Bread My Soule though dead in Sinne yet touching Thee By Faith and in thy bloud being sanctifide Can it but more then liue in Thee and me When Thou therein dost more then still abide And sith that Corpes was rais'd that crau'd not life By touching those dead Bones then Lord let me That as my Husband clip thee as thy Wise Be rais'd to life that beg the same of thee I cannot thinke because I thinke of thee as more then Grace it selfe that thou hast borne My sinnes and in my sinnes dost beare with mee that of thy Grace I shall be quite forlorne O! can my Soule but melt to thinke how oft thou mightst haue slaine me yet didst vse thy knife To prune and make me grow in Grace aloft and â—lu'st my Foes therewith that sought my life How many thousand Soules now burne in Hell that haue perhaps sinn'd lesse then sinfull I Who held thy Hands when I did so rebell that I should liue when Soules lesse sinfull dye My sinnes cry to thee and thou stop'st thine Eares lest thou sholdst heare them the more they cry The more thy deafenesse to them still appeares as if thou didst their clamorous suite deny I doe but sinne and thou dost me but saue if I flye fast from thee thou followest faster Though I be tir'd with Sinne thy Mercies haue no meane to tire but meanes my Sinnes to master The more I sinne the more thou humblest mee so mak'st me know my selfe by knowing Sinne Nay more it puls me from my selfe to thee so though I lose my selfe yet thee I winne O strange disposing of the worst of Ill meere Concord of maine Contradiction That which puls from doth draw together still where loue drawes Discords to make Vnion So then my Faults as if they Vertues were wrought for my good by thee that hast the skill To beare with men to make them sinne forbeare and so through Grace to pull good out of Ill Yet didst thou whisper in my Soules right Eare that I should doe no ill for such good end But mad'st me sinning Sinne to hate and feare in loue for that it did thee LOVE offend With Thornes thou dost hedge-in my narrow Way that if I ere so little step awry They straight doe pricke me and so make me pray for help to thee in whom all help doth lye And as the Hunter stoppeth vp each Gap wher-through the wild Bore may escape vncaught So dost thou stop my way with each misse-hap when I would runne away from thee to nought Am I escapt from out thy mercies Hands thy Hand of Iustice puls me in againe So Mercy holds me by which Iustice stands to help to hold me safe by ease and paine Haue I a Will by Death to damne my Soule by desprate Death to damne not mine but thine Thou dost that Will with thy good Will controule And mak'st my Will thy Will in spight of mine Am I resolu'd to sinne presumptuously and that of purpose to despight thee too Thou mak'st the Will without the Deed to dye and mak'st me damne the Deed ere it I doe Would I for any indiuine respect sell Heau'n for Earth and God so for the Deuill Thou God dost make that Would worke good effect for when it proues the Ill it shuns the euill Is my Hand stretched out my faith to plight to blacke Perdition twixt my hand and It Thou putst thy hand of Iustice which doth smite away my hand before that knot be knit The Weapons me thou gau'st my selfe to saue I monster did against thy Goodnesse bend And with thy glorious gifts I thee did braue so did I shame my selfe and Thee offend The Tongue thou mouedst that blasphemed Thee thou rul'dst the limbes that did thy Members rend Thou gau'st Wit pow'r with Thee to disagree and gau'st Will force the giuer to offend So that not onely I ingrate haue bin for thy good gifts but haue the same imployd As weapons of vnrighteousnesse in Sinne and so with thine owne Grace haue thee annoid Thou mad'st all Creatures for mine onely vse t' allure me to thy gainfull Loue thereby But I abused thee by their abuse so with thy Good deeds did thee damnifie So that through whom the seeing of thy Face was to be tane through them I could not see For I as Gods did them in Loue embrace which thou had'st giu'n to guide me vnto Thee That I might serue thee me did all things serue I did command that me thou might'st intreat They did me Good when I did ill deserue and when I made thee small they made me great Thou gau'st me Faith and Hell the Fruites hath had thou gau'st me Grace and Sinne hath vs'd the same Thou gau'st me Wit which Will abus'd as mad thou gau'st me Sense wherewith my selfe I shame Thou gau'st me Health which sickely I haue vs'd in riot surfet and in all excesse Thou gau'st me Strength which I haue still abus'd in waging warre with thine owne Mightinesse Thou for my profit plaguedst other men that so from Sinne I might be kept with ease But I vnplagued plagu'd my Brethren so farre off was I from remorse by These These Gifts I most vngratefull gratis had which though abus'd I vsed when I would And being Gifts
be all my Dayes Can I loue Life which Truth doth so dispraise A Ship a Shaft a Shuttle were too slow Or whatsoeuer else doth swiftly glide The flight of Time in this short life to show But It as lesse then Nothing must abide Then ah shall lesse then Nothing make me lose Thee Thing of Things that dost each Thing enclose And what a lesse then Nothing is this Life It 's worse then Nought that 's lesser then That Lâ—sse So fraught with Mischiefe Sorrow Sinne and Strife That It like Hell is Hold of Heauinesse For who so hath most ease and rest therein Are most diseas'd most oft with restlesse Sinne. No foote of Ground Earths dismall face containes That is not ouer-laid with treble Snares A Flies foote rests not on It without Paines Besides Deaths danger and a World of cares I speake but speak with griefe what I haue found On Earth then Earth of griefe is but the Ground For scarce is one Temptation ouer-past But in the Neck thereof another comes Like Circles that Stones cause in Waters cast Which chase each other till the last o'er-comes So and none otherwise Temptations striue Which by the spoile of others best shall thriue Nay so each other to succeede were ease More then temptation vseth to admit But while the first endures like swelling Seas Another riseth worse much worse then It Then in temptations Seas with Waues thus driu'n How hard is it t' attaine the Hau'n of Heau'n The treble Snares fore-mention'd three fell Foes Doe lay for me to catch me if they can The Flesh the Diuell and the World are Those Which three still watch to catch me carelesse Man The least of which hath skill exceeding great Then how should I poore Wren their drifts defeate On this side fights my Flesh the World on that The Diuell at my Backe and all as One Doe me assaile nay doe they care not what So I thereby may quite be ouer-throwne And thus like cunning Foes they compasse mee That I may haue no way away to flee I cannot from my Body flee because It is my Clogge and I am tide thereto Nor must I It vndoe for any cause For so vndone I doe my soule vndoe If I doe feede the same my foe I fat That will assault mee much the more for that Then must I needes my Body beare about Though faine I would forsake It knew I how And yet the same is alwayes running out Yet drawes me with 't as Colts doe draw the Plow It tires my Spirit that toiles to keepe it in From being tir'de in running out to sinne Besides th'iniurious World beleaguers me This that and eu'ry way with maine and might And through the Loope-holes of my Senses Hee With my weake Soule continually doth fight Which still thogh faintly fights to keepe out death And oft poore Soule quite shee is out of breath If at those Loopes the World repulse doth take Hee sets his Slaues to watch me in my way That they may through my slippings me o'er-take And so to wound my Fame with sharp Dispraise Or draw mee els before Authority Where I may know what t' is to slip awry But that 's a fauour done against his will Herein his malice mends me makes me watch My sinfull selfe from running into ill Lest that these Fiends should me in euill catch For Lord thou know'st they watch not for my good But how by mischiefe they may suck my bloud If thee I serue they call me Hypocrite If I doe not then Atheist am I nam'd If I giue Almes t is that beg praise I might So doe I good or euill I am blam'd Then this thrice wayward World by his good will Will haue me to be Nothing good nor ill The Diuell is a Spirit which is vnseene Then how should I auoid his mortall Blowes Whose weapons are as long as strong and keene And sendeth flaming Shafts from fiery Bowes The least of which to death my Soule will wound If thou confound them not ere they confound So then these three strong armed Enimies Me ceaselessely assaile to make me fall The Flesh suggesteth to me Luxuries The World obiecteth Sweetes the Diuell Gall And all as most intire conspire in this To make me ill to liue to die amisse The Flesh importunes me with daintie food With Sleepe Sloth Lust and carnall Liberty The World doth moue me to ambitious moode The Diuell to Malice Ire and Treacherie Thus all in seu'rall sort in one agree To pare my Crowne if not to conquer me Behold ô Lord with whom I liue perforce I dwell with Scorpions Vipers and the like Which kill by Nature without all remorce And with their stings they good and bad doe strike O Lord how long how long deare Lord shall I Endure this Death the Life of misery Atheists and Infidels doe neighbour me Beside these foes and with them still doe ioyne To worke my wracke for they still boring be Betwixt thy Spirit and mine them to vnioyne Among the Tents of Kedars thus I dwell Whose In-mates are as Serpent-wise as fell Example more then Precept makes vs good And is there none that doth good no not one Then ah what can liue with this Vipers Brood That is not brought to nought no not a Stone Then I being Flesh how can I hurt auoide By them by whom eu'n Stones are oft annoid In these sore Conflicts if I should retire Into my selfe I finde me fraught within With fleshly worldly diuellish-damn'd desire The three-fold Bastard of these Foes and Sinne. Who will with them conspire to conquer me Then in my selfe I least secure shall be My Heart 's more moueable then Motion is Vnconstant fugitiue vaine light lewd blinde Wandring each way and yet the way doth misle Yet still holds on that Course by course of kinde Agent and Patient t is in Sinne and Shame That both effects and suffers for the same And as a Mill doth grinde what it receiues Els grindes it selfe if nought be throwne thereon So doth the Heart grinde what the same conceiues Else grindes it selfe till it to nought be gone But it by Nature still conceiueth Sinne Then Sinne by Nature still is ground therein But if thy Grace Lord thou therein infuse It grindes the same like flow'r of finest Wheate To make sweet Bread vnleauened to vse When as the Soule doth grinde thee as her meate And as the heart doth grinde the Soule to feede With good or bad so our liues haps succeede Sometimes it grindes but griefes infus'd by Sinne And oft but Dusty thoughts and Earthy cares Thou when such Griefs it grindes pour'st Ioy therin And me for thee by griefes that Ioy prepares Then may I say when so the Mill doth runne I had beene if I had not beene vndone But for the most part it is euer cloid Like an hard Miâ—l-stone with the softest things As fleshly lusts and vaine Ioyes ouer-ioyde And with that harts-case which most torment brings So that my Heart
way perforce againe When thou hadst plung'd me in the Font of Grace so clens'd the filth I was conceiued in Though there I vow'd to keepe me in that case I brake my vow and me re-suncke in sinne So that sweet Temple which thou sanctifi'dst in me for thee I cursedly did blesse Raising therein that which thou least abid'st namely the Idoll of Voluptuousnesse Then liu'd I as an Out-law when it seem'd by Law or Fiend or Foe might me surprise But I of thee yet then was so esteem'd that thou by Law didst quit me in this wise The Law requir'd Death or Obedience then thou for me didst more then Law requir'd Which di'dst for sinne yet liu'dst in innocence so thou thereby didst more then It desir'd Yet ere I once did thinke vpon thy Grace I liu'd as loose as if I had beene bound To nothing but to Persons Time and Place that sought my Soule and body to confound So past my Dayes that rather lookt like Night nay rather like the Darke that may be felt Wherein my selfe ne'er came within my sight although I might mine vnsweet life haue smelt Then like blinde Baiard being bold as blinde I ranne as Fancy led me eu'ry where To doe the Deedes of darknesse in their kinde and with me others blinded so did beare Then what was it the Diuell could deuise to clog a Soule with Sinne exceeding Sinne But I to doe it was as quicke as wise the rather sith my Soule did ioy therein Then carnall beautie was the onely Sunne that warm'd me at the heart and lent me light A Light and Heate by which were quite vndone mine Eyes Heart nay Body Soule Spright For all confounded were as they had bin no more themselues but beauties shadowes vaine Attending her in whatsoeuer Sinne as Toyes that had bin stitched to her Traine Then were my Feete as swift as swiftest Roes Mans bloud to shed and so thy Forme deface My friends to wrong and treble wrong my foes to shunne the good and bad men to embrace Then those things onely pleased best my taste that were distastiue to thy sacred Sense And that time onely I esteemed waste that to thy Seruice had most reference Thy Name to my vncircumcized Eare was harsh and fill'd the same with all offence Which I did deadly hate through seruile feare but seru'd thy Foes with treble diligence The World the Flesh and thy Competitor that for my Soule with Thee do aye contend Made me their Slaue and seruil'dst Seruitor so gaue my Minde thy Kindome to the Fiend Thy Word to me seeem'd most ridiculous as full of Crackes as Contradiction And no lesse witlesse then most barberous so made I it a Ground to play vpon The fairest Church then seem'd the fowlest Iaile a Preacher like an Headsman kill'd me quite Words least diuine with me did most preuaile and Peace of Conscience still in me did fight In briefe I was for which my selfe I hate such as on whom VICE show'd what she could do When she did light but on a low estate for what Deedes shee deuis'd my Hand was to In this time of my young yet doating Age thou didst expect me Lord and lent'st me breath Yea didst attend me like that Princes Page that alwayes put his Lord in minde of Death O altitude of Grace surmounting Grace ô magnitude of Mercy most extreame How many settings-out in such a Race haue beene o'er-taken with thy Furies Streame Yet I most blessed-cursed-blessed I haue by the Mercy more then most diuine Beene suffer'd to be tir'd with vanitie and yet preseru'd till brought to Grace in fine Had Iustice hands which then still vrged were drawne me before her High Tribunall Throne And by a Quest of Angels tride me there I had beene cast and more then ouerthrowne But blest be thine vnconquer'd Patience that me forbore till I to sinne forbare And blessed be thy Mercies prepotence by which I warded was and bid beware Forcing into my Soule the feare of Hell the sight of Sinne Lifes vaine and short expence With thy Lawes strictnesse all which still impell my Heart though Steele to melt in penitence Yea when my feet were fast in Follies Stockes thou didst by Grace past Grace extort from me Whole Flouds of Teares from two most flintie Rockes my Heart and Eyes for so offending thee And when I fled from thee as if it had beene matter of small moment Thee to flee Thou follow'dst me I being worse then mad to keepe me from the Furies following mee Thus long we straue and striuing long at length thou didst preuaile and tam'd my Coltish Will Yet t was by holy Fraud and mightie Strength which claw'd me while they did restraine me still For no lesse was thy Mercies skill herein then thy Pow'rs force for sinfull Soules to cure Showes skilfull Grace and Men that most doe sinne to iustifie bewraies almightie Pow'r And ô how many Graces giu'st thou me with this meere guilt of my Vocation Firme Faith sure Hope and perfect Charitie with all the Vertues that attend thereon And though I cannot be assured Lord to serue thee to the end and meeke withall Yet doe my Faith and Hope rest on thy Word which sure doth stand though oft vnsure I fall Thy Sp'rit likewise doth witnesse to my Sp'rit that thou dost loue me more than tenderly Sith in thy Loue thou mak'st my Loue delight which loue erst lothed thy Loue mortally Blessed be thou therefore great Lord of Grace for giuing me thy deare adopting Spirit To nurse and teach and rule me in my Race and thee and me vnioynde to re-vnite And blessed be that euer-blessed DAY wherein that Ghest did make my Soule his Inne And be that Houre and Moment blessed aye wherein my Will gaue way to let him in That Day was the true Sabboth of my rest that Day I left th' Egyptian seruitude That was my second Birth-day truely blest who then was borne to all Beatitude It was mine Easter-day wherein I rose from Death of Sinne vnto the Life of Grace It was the Day my Heau'nly Husband chose to marry me and Coort me face to face Let Iob and Ieremy ban their birth-Day this will I blesse with Heart Mind Mouth Pen Sith then the Angels in their best aray saluted me as their Co-cittizen Wherein God call'd me Son and Christ dear Spouse the Holy-Ghost his Temple and when all The Holy TRINITIE did trimme the House of my poore Soule that teady was to fall Deare Lord with what deare Words or dearer Deedes no dearest Words and Deeds are all too weake To match thy Mercies but my Soule must needs quite breake if not into thy Praises breake I le sing to thee as Dauid once did sing O Lord how glorious are thy Workes of Grace And as the Angels Peales of Praises ring so will I praise thee though my voyce be base The worke of my Creation show'd great Loue and that of my Redemption more exprest Yet that of
Friends and Ghostly Guides how many good Examples Lights of life What like Bookes hast thou sent me these besides as Loue-signes whilst thou woo'dst me for thy Wife All which to thee I freely doe referre that they from thee more freely may reflow For sith thou didst all these on me conferre ere I was thine now all Thine I doe owe. But to recount the Perils I haue past thou being present pointing out the way Is more then well Arithmetick can cast which doe thy mercies numberlesse bewray And into what more than prodigious Crimes I might haue fall'n hadst thou not me vpheld Yea hadst thou not preuented me be times appeares by those that haue in sinne excell'd For neuer did the Diuell sinne so much but that a fraile Man may commit as great If with thy grace his Heart thou doe not touch and with thy Pow'r the pow'r of Sinne defeate As many Meanes then as I had to sinne and fit Occasions as I had to fall So many might my Sinnes and Fals haue bin if I by thee had had no help at all Occasions are so violent in Pow'r that they could Giant-foyling Dauid fall For they once tooke him vp into his Tow'r from whence he fell in part and after all Occasion is a Ianus which doth looke to Vice and Vertue most indifferently But by Sinnes watching him he oft is tooke and made the meane of much Impietie Hee 's fain'd to stand vpon an vpright Bowle to show his course is most indifferent Except he meetes with rubs which make him roule out of the way which way those Rubs are bent But ô how often hast thou with strong hand â—ane him out of my way lest I should fall By reason he in my way right did stand for oft I stumble at Occasion small How oft hast Thou the FOES hand manacled because he should not fight or if he should I should be Victor and not vanquished and so get Grace sith tride I held my Hold How often haue I march'd vpon my Foes the Adder Viper and the Cocatrice And neuer was once stung or hurt by those thou had'st so charm'd the malice of their vice How oft hast thou walk'd hand in hand with me through Fire and Water all vntoucht of eyther Nay so their Pow'rs were tempered by thee that they wrought for my comfort altogether And how oft haue they quite consumed bin who for not worshipping their senslesse Sawes Haue in Afflictions Furnace kept me in the whiles I sang for ioy in Sorrowes Iawes That with the Psalmist I may iustly say I was sore thrust at that I so might fall But thou o'er-threw'st my thrusters with my stay as Bals quite breake throwne hard against a wall How oft haue my Sinnes sold me to thy wrath how often haue I fall'n yet neuer fell For in thy Mercy which no measure hath though I did passing ill I haue done well Though I gaue that to Nature due to Grace and to my selfe that which belong'd to Thee Who might'st haue grac'd Thee then with my disgrace yet gau'st thou grace not shame eu'n then to me And though the Angels fell for lesse offence and that proud Babel-Monarch for the same Yet I as one of more preheminence escap'd vnskarr'd in Body Goods and Name I Perils lou'd yet perisht not therein by many by-wayes I found out the right With Grace familiar was I made by Sinne so foild I Sinne by Sinne and not by fight Was euer Loue so wonne was euer Man so woo'd by GOD or can my Soule conceiue How much thy Mercies may that so much can or can I thee of Loue deare Loue deceiue O rather of my Being quite bereaue me and turne me to my pristrinâ— Nihil-hood Then I should so of but meere Loue deceiue thee that mak'st mine Euils doe me so much good Burne me kinde LOVE to Nothing that of nought thou mai'st in Loue make some-thing good for thee Of nought thou mad'st me good mine Ill I wrought then now of nought good make me euer be Perfect great Master-builder of mine All thy Worke begunne and let my Nothing be Apt to be-come in Forme materiall and be conform'd to matter lou'd of Thee Breathe on this CHAOS Lord and let thy Spirit walke on the Waters of my Humors vaine My Darknesse palpable couert to Light so my Confusion shall in Order raigne O'er Sinne and Death and darke-darke Ignorance in datelesse Tearmes of all Eternities The value of thy Vertue to aduance which of thy selfe aboue all Heights doth rise This is my Hope which is because thou ART Iust in thy Word and Deede in All and Part For Power and Grace to withstand the Flesh the World and the Diuell WHen I looke vp and see the Heau'nly Spheares roule on my Time and my Lifes Line therin Thus say I to my Soule Vaine Soule thy yeares are nothing sith thou nothing dost but sinne Yet art thou made eternall like thy Sire and all conceiu'st like him beneath the Sunne Th' art in my Whole and Parts like him intire and hast like him right Reason Ill to shunne And yet ô yet thou dost but Ill withall so all that good thou turn'st to Euill still Who through Infirmitie to Sinne dost fall when thou stand'st highest in grace of Pow'rs good-will Then Lord of Pow'r and Grace with both so arme my falling Soule that she thereby may stand Against th' Assaults of all that would her harme for she can foile but with thy Forces Band. Great Lord of Hostes Iehouah God of Pow'r then leaue me not alone among my Foes But strengthen me from thy Strengths trusty Tow'r that I by Thee may euer vanquish those The Flesh the World the Diuell with their Bands of strong as fraudfull Foes me still assaile While all my Pow'r lyes onely in thy Hands which when I hold I foile with-held I faile If then thou wouldst I still should Victor be giue me those helps that in thy hand still lye Flesh fights not with it selfe but thou in me canst foile it quite and make it Mercy cry The World doth loue it selfe and so her Owne too well t'endamage eyther and doth charge Too strongly on me to be ouerthrowne by my small pow'r if thou it not enlarge And Sathan in himselfe is not diuided though in himselfe still turbulent he be He is too crafty strong and well-prouided for me t' encounter if thou help not me Then ô estsoones againe and still againe I thine assistance humbly doe inuoke That so I may still vanquish so still raigne o'er these our Foes that euer vs prouoke So will I yeeld the glory vnto Thee That foilst such strength by Weaknesse that 's by me The Sinner confessing his sinne striueth with God by importunitie of Prayer for Grace GReat God! from whoÌ„ no thought can be concea'ld sith it thou know'st ere thoght searched hast All Hearts ere they in Nature are reueal'd forgiue my thoughts that giue thee but distaste To my Confusion needes I must confesse
them reuiue againe And yet these thirty eu'ry Month doe die Yet eu'ry Month they liue immortally Thus by a Yeare which euermore doth raise Twelue months like sons and each month thirty dayes Time turnes o'er All and All doth ouer-turne Till in the later day himselfe shall burne And then Eternitie shall take his Roome In which is nothing past nor yet to come Wherein the subiect of my Song still is A glorious Angell in the height of Blisse Atheist stand farre from this her sacred shrine For thou art foe to all that is diuine Thou dost beleeue where ere her Corpes consumes There perisheth her soule which ne'er assumes The same againe but ô her flesh shall rise As doth her fame aboue both death and skies And why shoudlest thou the Resurrection doubt When Clouds of Proofes so compasse it about Some write that Swallowes drown'd are in the Deepe In Winter and in Summer rise from sleepe The Fly in Winter dyes in Summer liues And being drown'd warme Ashes her reuiues The Vrchin of the Sea in pieces rent Re-water'd ioynes and liues incontenent Each Graine that rots before the same doth spring Is a true figure of this reall thing Each Plant which in the Winter seeming dyes And springs in Summer shewes men dead shall rise Say a man famisht into Aire were past Yet Aire shall yeeld what it receiues at last As well as Earth and Seas shall yeeld their dead Though on them vanisht Wormes or Fish haue â—ed At first they gaue what they did not receiue Then what they take shall they not rather giue He that but with a Word made Man of nought Can he not raise him dead now he is ought If no his Arme wants wonted pow'r and length Or else wants knowledge to imploy his strength But in th' Almighty none of thâ—se appeare That knew our smallest Portions ere they were If Nothing were the point from whence did rise Creation it may be the Point likewise Of Resurrection but it Something is That shall be rais'd the easier then is this Say Men eate Men through some hard exigent And them conuerted haue to nutriment Yet shall their Excrement how ere vnmeete At last yeeld vp their Relickes pure as sweet For at that Day each man shall put on fresh Flesh of his owne and not anothers flesh And though he fed of others that shall be Restor'd the owner be it he or she And Beasts of prey that oft on Men doe feed Doe die and of them Flies or Wormes doe breed Those Flies and Wormes are often food for Fish And they againe come often to our dish All this may be and so a Man may goe Through Beasts Fish Fowle and Vermine too and fro And neuer rest though he be dead till he From that base Progresse lastly raised be Yet he that wâ—ll knew All ere ought was made Knowes where what ere created is doth vade And can but with a thought re-gather it And make it in the proper figure knit For if t' were worthy Gods Creation erst To make Man subiect to a fall at first It 's farre more worthy for his powrefull hand To raise him dead eternally to stand For Death is but a sleepe and as a Man Can wake Men sleeping so th' Almightie can Raise vp the dead so much more easily As matchlesse Pow'r doth passe Infirmitie If Heau'n be iust and there be Prouidence Then we shall rise when we are falne from hence For if the good in this Life finde but Woes And no Ioy in the next most curst are those Nay most bruit Beasts more happie are than they Who here doe most of all Watch fast and pray The Rod of Moses turned to a Snake Shewes God of one thing can another make And shall he not so faile vs in our trust Restore man to himselfe when he is dust O Heaueus fore-fend we should once so conceiue For God can neither alter nor deceiue Our Bodies are his seede Church-yards and Graues Are all his Seed-plots where his Seede he saues By sowing to corrupt to rise againe Most incorrupt and so by losse to gaine In the Cadauer some haue thought some Bonâ— Retaines the Seede of Resurrection Which kept from rotting by th' Almighties force Should raise at last the Worme-consumed Corse Some say that in the Teeth that Seede doth lie Sith Earth Aire Fire them hardly putrifie But we beleeue this Seed and doe not doubt Is not within the Body but without For when the Trumpe shall sound the dead shal peep Out of their graues as newly wakt from sleepe By that great Pow'r that there asleepe them laid Then in that Pow'r that Seede is solely staid But some doe say our Bodies cannot rise From Earth to Heau'n for that aboue the Skies No nasty Body can remaine because Such to the Center Nature euer drawes Fond men they know not then our Flesh shall be Not chang'd in Substance but in Qualitie Our Bodies shall be Heau'nly so they shall Agree with any place Celestiall Our blessed Sauiours Body once like ours Saue that it could not sinne those heau'nly Tow'rs Doe now enwall then in that Heau'n of blisse Why by his Pow'r may ours not stay with his That Water hangs in th' Aire who doth not know And by the Load-stone heauy Iron doth so If Nature can doe this what can perswade Gods Pow'r is lesse then Natures which he made No no his Pow'r that doth all pow'r comprise Can flesh refine t' inhabite so the Skies By which high Pow'r and his diuinest Grace There rests my Saint as in her proper place Her Soule there rests and in those heauenly Bowres Her Body shall when it shall rise with ours Which while too short a while it soiourn'd here It did celestiall to all Eyes appeare Then may a little mending make it fit For Heau'n that was so heau'nly out of it Thou wast rare Maide aliue s' Angelicall That dead thy dust is Metaphisicall If some shall muse why I contemplate Thee Among his Praises that most praisefull be Let if suffice them t' was of purpose done To praise thee Starre for light had of this Sunne Within the Volume that includes his praise That nought includes so his in thine to raise As when we laud the light the Sunne doth giue We praise the Giuer in the Gift and striue When most we praise the Taker to renowne The Giuers praise for gracing so his owne So and none otherwise I praise the Grace Appearing in the Soule Limbes Eyes and Face Of Natures Maister-piece this goodly Maide Of whom all good can neuer ill be said If so much heau'nly Grace and Gifts of Nature As Vertue Beautie rarest Forme and Stature Should not be grac'd by them they good then I May say the better'd are the worse thereby For still th' ungratefull for a Benefit Though bound are free from Honestie and Wit And though the vertuous for their Vertues sake Looke not for praise but striue it to forsake To keepe them