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
too good made me too bad For they made me too proud and too too bold The rage of Lyons Tygers and the like Is lenified with gifts and turn'd to loue But with thy gifts to grieue thee I did seeke Yet still thou mad'st me their increase to proue Thou Man becam'st to make a God of mee at least a God that Heau'n and Earth doe serue And I became a Diuell in Deed to Thee that wrong'd thee more the more thou didst deserue High'st Iustice shining through thy Passions Cloud could not enforce me it to loue or dread Thou had'st no hole wherein thy head to shroud but all this All 's too little for my head Though thou art God Foes Fists thy face enorme if any touch my Coate I touch them home By word and deed that yet am but a Worme thou striu'st for lowest I for highest Roome Thou wouldst be slaine to slaughter Sinne in me but by thy death I life-inspir'd the same So thy great Mercy made me martyr Thee and with the Iewes I made thy griefes my game The Med'cine so thou gau'st to cure my Wounds I venomed to make my hurt the more Which both with Sinne shame my Soule confounds sith Sinne by Grace I made more sinfull sore If from the Law to take a cause to sinne is much more damn'd then sinne without the Law What is it then when Grace so vs'd hath bin and force to fight with Grace from grace to draw The wilde-fire of my Passions burned me my Thoughts Distractions did me quite deuide The Worme of Conscience rag'd where thou wouldst be yet these I did as one in thee abide For mine Affections cryed nought but Peace when those Affections most did Peace impunge And when I was in Hell they seem'd in ease so much the old misled Affections young And Fury-like towards hel I alwayes made but thou more wayes then all wayes broughtst me back The Trade of Vertue I held Vices Trade sith more then Vice she seem'd to liue in lacke How oft haue I beene at the gates of Hell and could not enter though I went about Thou didst the Diuell from his charge compell so Porter wast thy selfe to keepe me out Nay when I haue beene euen in his Iawes and that his Fangs were entring in my Soule Till thou didst pul me thence thou mad'st him pause so came I as from Heau'n as Meeke as Whole O! how can I such pow'rfull Grace requite that forceth Iustice with Her force to ioyne From wracke to saue me in mine owne despight and made restore who did my selfe purloyne Had I the liues of Angels and of Men and offer'd all to thee in sacrifice And if those liues were thrice resum'd agen and offer'd vp as oft t' would not suffice T' would not suffice to recompâ—â—ce thy loue it were too cheape to quite tâ—y deare deserâ— O then can I wretch so vngratefull proue as not to giue thee one poore wretched Heart Can I ô can I be so much besides Grace Faith Sense Mother-wit my selfe and all That hauing yet these gifts to be my guides doe yet but stand by these by these to fall If I be lost it must not be in Hell thogh ne'er so dark for there thou foundst me out It must be somewhere which no where can tell for where that is both Time and Place doe doubt It cannot be in Hell for thou art there then Heau'ns thy Seat ah would I there were lost Nay not in Place for thou art eu'ry where Then not in Time which ere It was thou knowst If then in Heau'n nor Hell in Time nor Place where then in my selfe lost I cannot be Yet lost I am if I doe lose thy grace which found me when I stole my selfe from thee But yet if needes I will be lost at last for grace at last saues none against their will No Lost-child euer was lockt halfe so fast from losing and deserueth halfe so ill The worst of Ill mâ—â—e worse with Ill made Whole is too too good for one made worse then That Too little he doth lose to lose his Soule that maugre grace still does he cares not what Therefore deare Lord let me not enter in this strict reuisall of my Sinne and grace The lesse to make excusable my Sinne but thereby more much more thy Loue embrace For these Confessions written by my Hand against my selfe against my selfe will goe To thy Tribunall and against me stand if now I doe not euer Sinne forgoe Then let thy Wâ—unds be once more opened deare Christ to wash me in thy reeking bloud Reuiue me by thy death that being dead still dead to Ill I may still liue to good O! iuycie Bunch of Soule-refreshing grapes hard pressed in the Wine-presse of the Crosse Make druncke my thirstie Soule that gasping gapes for thy pure bloud to purge mine being too grosse Mine Ire Pride Lust Presumption Hate and Scorne yea all my Sinnes which I can ne'er recite I cast into thy wounds which wide are torne O keepe them There then from thy Fathers sight As much as those confound these comfort me nay more much more sith more thou canst forgiue Then I can sinne although I quartred Thee if when the deed is done through grace I grieue Mellefluous Sea of Comforts most diuine Meridian Light whence springs true glories Day With both o'er whelme me till through both I shine in perfect glory by thy glories Ray. Let not my Deedes or inofficious Sloth doe or omit what should not or be done For both are cursed by thy blessed mouth sith Ill to doe and good omit is one But let this league be constant to the end For they but mend to marre that marre to mend And Wisedome at our wisedome doth but scoffe When we doe ill that good may come thereof The sighes of a Pensiue Soule groaning vnder the burden of sinne WHo art thou Lord thou Lord whose magnitude admits no Name and what or who am I That dare but thinke of such an Altitude farre past the reach of highest Angels Eye What am I but a Sacke of sickenesses Immodestie it selfe Dust Clay Durt Dung Slyme Food for Wormes lesse slymie Carkasses with filth much more vncleanly mixt among Meere gall of bitternesse true Heyre of Hell begot twixt Sinne and Sathan life of Death Rebellion in the abstract Vices Shell the breath of Sinne that baneth but with breath Gods griefe Mens plague and Angels sole annoy sith sad I make them by vncessant sinne Let to the sorrow which doth cause their Ioy sith mine example hinders some therein In Counsaile blinde in Actions most vnwise In thought vnstaid vnconstant in desire Then Nothing lesse yet great in mine owne Eyes for past my selfe my selfe would faine aspire In summe I am the totall summe of Ill ill in my flesh and euill in my sp'rit Worse in my Wit and worser in my Will this Lord is hee thou would'st to thee vnite But what and who art thou thou namelesse GREAT sith
Traitor worse then hee that solde thee it will for Meede or Dread the Soule betray Nor in fire is it willing to behold thee in fiery tryals then it shrinckes away Therefore when it a Champion of such might betraid to feare I dare not say I will No that 's Presumption but I wish I might for willing well without thee we doe ill Then be with me strong Pow'r and I will say I will and will performe that will in Deed For where thou art by Pow'r it 's but a play in greatest torments then to burne or bleed Now as thy Body grew so grew thy griefes for who deare Lord can possibly expresse Thy Persecutions void of all reliefe saue Praying Fasting Watching Wearinesse They spake against thee who sate in the Gate and common Drunkards ballads made of thee That thou might'st say in worse then Dauids state being poore I labour from mine Infancie These were the griefs dear Loue thy life did brook but in thy Death what Sense ere vnderstood What paines thou felt'st when like a rising brooke thy body more and more o'erflow'd with bloud Freedome made Captiue Mercy Miserie Grace quite disgraced beauty vilifide Innocence strooken Iustice doom'd to dye Glory quite shamed and Life crucifide O Heau'ns what can amaze with Wonderment the Sense of Man more then this what shall I Call this so strange vnheard of Loues extent that ouer-fils all Names Capacitie In few now Grace alone seemes Sinne alone Life dyes State 's whipt and Pow'r bound to a Poast The Glory of the Father spet vpon and in a word God seemeth to be lost In this Deepe further may my Soule not wade my strength is spent for my heart bleedes in me O glorious Grace O Maiestie vnmade is this for me O boundlesse Charitie If I for my Redemption am so tide to loue and honour thee What shall I bee For that thou did'st so many Deaths abide when one wold serue to make me more than free With what loue shall I quite this more then Loue with what life shall I imitate thy life With what teares shall I my repose reproue and with what Peace shall I conclude my strife I owe thee more for my redeeming Lord sith in the same thou Death of deaths didst proue Then for my Making which was with a Word for more much more thy Passion showde thy loue For if for Cherubins or Seraphins thou had'st thus di'd t 'had beene lesse meruellous But thou hast di'd for me a Sincke of sinnes which of all Wonders is most wonderous What are we Lord or what our Fathers House we Sons of wretched Men that Gods deere Senne Doth in such loue and mercie visit vs as through Death to re-make vs quite vndone If in the ballance of thy Sanctuary thou weigh our body t' will be found more light Than Vanitie more graue then Misery as if It did consist in Natures spight And if our Conuersation thou respect what is it but a Chaos of Offence The Goodnesse of whose All is all Defect whose very Souâ—'s but Hell of Conscience Dost thou ô God then for such Diuels die the Sonnes of Sathan most oppos'd to thee For the Subuerters of all Honestie for breakers of good Lawes that blessed be For thy Contemners for thy Gloryes Clouds for thy Deprauers for the worst of Ils For meere cuâ—st Thwarts of all Beatitudes for thy Tormentors that thy Soule would kill Whose Hearts no gifts can once allure to loue much lesse with Menaces are terrifide Nor mou'd with heauy Plagues that Rockes would moue nor yet with sweet'st Indulgence mollifide For Fiends who not suffic'd with their owne vice the Earth doe compasse so to compasse more And not contented others to intice diue to the Diuels to augment their store Where robbing those Egyptians of their wealth to weet Pride Enuy Malice blasphemie Away they steale so all they doe by stealth to make them Idols for their Fantasie Who when they haue rak'â— Hell for eu'ry Euill and got as much as Hell can hold or yeeld They then deuise themselues worse then the Diuel new kindes of sinnes that Hell yet neuer held Adding thereto obduracie of Heart and doe their Conscience more then cauterize Pleasing themselues like Fiends in others smart and for that end doe many meanes deuise Are these deare Lord the things for which thou the things I say for no Name is so ill As they deserue What onely must the Highest diest dye for vile Vipers that their Maker kill My Heart doth faile my Spirit is extinct when thus I weigh thy Mercies with my Sinne And wert not for thy graces meere instinct I should despaire deare Lord and dye therein Yet sith I haue begun to speake to thee O be not angry if I yet doe speake Let Dust and Ashes once so saucie be to aske their God what He hereby doth seeke Seek'st thou the loue of such meere Lumps of Hate or else the seruice of such Vermine vile Alas great Lord it stands not with thy State sith where they come by nature they defile If thy desire of Marriage did so burne that Thou thy Creatures would'st needes espouse Why then did Seraphins not serue thy turne that are more Noble and thee better vse Why of a prepuce Nation took'st a Wife which afterwards did Thee betray and kill So marriedst as it were the very Knife that cut thy throate so seem'dst thy selfe to spill What answer'st Lord to these too high Demands I would haue this because I would have this This is thine Answere and the reason stands vpon thy Will which cannot will amisse Then be it Lord according to thy Will for so it muâ—â— be be it how so ere By life or death then let me It fulfill that dost by both thee so to mee endeere For since Mans fall none passe to Paradise but by the dreadfull burning Cherubins To Canaan none but by where Marah lies sith there th' inheritance of ioy begins And none vnto the happy Citie goes that goes not by the Babel-Riuers side And none Ierusalem or sees or knowes that through the vale of Teares nor goe â—orride The way to Heau'n is by the Gates of Hell and Wormwood-wine thogh bitter wholsome is Thy Crosse ô Christ doth Heau'ns strong 〈◊〉 compell to open wide for t is the Key of blisse And sith for me so well thou loud'st that Crosse Let me for thee count all things else but losse A Thanksgiuing for our Vocation WIth all the pow'r and vertues of my Soule I doe adore thee holy Lord of All That when I had no name in thy check-rowle thou wrat'st it on thy Palme and me didst call I dwelt sometimes in blacke Obliuions Land where in the shade of Death I sadly sate But thou kind Lord didst reach me then thy hand which from thence drew me to a glorious state When as I wandred in the crooked wayes that too directly led to endlesse paine Thou didst thy forces then against me raise to put me in thy
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
great Then Feare perswades me I seeke grace in vaine yet Grace makes hope some Fauour to intreat I haue neglected to fore-see the woes that follow sinne and now would grace for-goe I oft haue taken mortall ouerthrowes yet scarse haue felt a mortall ouerthrow I haue encreast my scars that feared not to adde still sinne to sinne and graue to light Fresh Wounds haue opened those before I got to make the Cure most hard or curelesse quite And what the Baâ—mes of Grace had clos'd before I through the itch of sinne haue opened wide Which through corruption now are growne so sore that scarse I can so sore a Cure abide The Skinne which growing ouer hid my Wounds through breaking out of the corruption gape For sinne the grace once granted quite confounds so that I feare I hardly can escape For if the righteous man shall perish in his sinne committed how much more then shall Repentant sinners turning eft to sinne the thought whereof more grieues me then my fall The newly dead Christ quickly rais'd to life but he must groane in spirit weepe cry and pray Yer Lazarus be rais'd for mortall strife Death made with life to leaue so long a Prey So it is in Regeneration for the lesse the Soule 's defil'd with sinnes delight And the more she the least sinne doth abhorre the lesse winde of Gods Sp'rit reuiues that sp'rit What shall I doe I can but sinne deare Lord if so thou canst but plague yea plague with Death Sith still I sinne then in thought deed and word cut off my sinne or els abridge my breath For Breath it is that kindles sinne in me with blowing at the coales of damn'd desires These through my banefull breath still raging be and quite consume the grace that me inspires Then if I did not breathe I should not sinne yet should I loose my breath e'er sinne bewaile I by that losse should but damnation winne then let me rue my faults yer Breath doth faile But if thou wilt that I should longer liue Let me no longer sinne or longer grieue A desire of the louing Soule of God to be kissed with the kisse of Peace KIsse me ô kisse me with Loues honyed Kisse ô dearest Loue and sweet'st-Heart of my Soule Whose loue is like pure Wine that cordiall is doth sowre cares with Comforts sweet controle Thy Name is like to sweet suffused Balme which makes chast Soules eu'n sick for loue of thee Whose Passions striuing in a blessed calme on Sorrowes Seas to thee still rowling be Draw me deare Loue then after thee I le runne vpon the sent of thy diuine Perfumes My Loue 's impatient since it first begunne of this delay which quite my Soule consumes Then ô delay no more to marry mee But wed my Soule that pines for loue of Thee Sith all Gods Creatures are against those that are against GOD in action the Sinner desireth to be in vnitie with him AS when a Master hath most mortall Foes his Seruants and men made by him will be Most persecuting Enemies to those till with their Lord and Master they agree So all thy Creatures Lord doe rise in Armes against great Sinners if impenitent To plague them with all kinde of killing harmes till they be ruin'd quite or made repent But being one with Thee our Enemies shall seeke our Fauour and themselues submit For when they see our Succour's in the Skies they will adore vs and acknowledge it Then make me Lord my foes straight put to flight By being one with Thee for whom they fight The Sinner desireth to haue the bent of his Will made appliable to Gods THe Way to Heau'n that truest Port of Peace is straite and straight vntill at Hell we be Where on the right hand then we turne with ease for when we passe that Point then well are wee But being straite but few that Way doe wend and being straight the crooked misse it still Then to this Port but few their course doe bend sith most are crooked euer bent to Ill. Then make vs straight deare Lord with handling straite or bring vs to thy bent with other Art Wee know thine vpright Compasse hath the sleight to bow vs to the bending of thy Heart That we may shoote and still may winners proue The Shafts of our Indeauours at thy Loue. The Sinner inueighes against his fleshes frailtie desiring God to strengthen it with his pow'r and Grace VIle Flesh why dost thou so my Spirit impugne That still the Sonne of Righteousnesse I wrong who di'd to make you liue No Moment breathe I but I breathe out Sinne That ends with shame where Sorrow doth beginne which makes me glad to grieue In thee fraile Flesh I feele my bloud to boyle With heate of such desires as make the Soile but Sinne in graine to beare My Spirits that in that Bloud doe swim with paine Yet floate they sith false pleasures them sustaine are neere the wracke I feare I feare the Rocke of refuge to the Iust For how in Truth should Treason put her trust Then truthlesse Traitor I May iustly feare that Grace in Iustice will My gracelesse Soule for Fleshes Treasons spill which makes me liuing dye I liuing dye not as one mortifide To sinne wherein as dead aliue I bide The more my griefe and blame I faine would dye to liue but Flesh doth draw My Life to Death sith I obserue the Law of Sinne which is my shame O thou whom Iacob wrastled with a space Strengthen my Faith to wrastle with thy Grace that it may set me goe Although it lame my Loynes and crack my Thighes Wherein strong Sinne still domineering lyes into thy Weale through Woe The Sinner recounting his manifold transgressions and finding himselfe thereby in danger of perdition desireth Grace through a world of sorrowes to auoid both Sinne and damnation MY Soule still faint in doing well and strong in working ill now now thy selfe retire From outward Cares or else amidst their throng poure out thy Sorrowes to thy heau'nly Sire Thy scatter'd thoughts in Fancies lewd as light gather together and with all thy Pow'rs Vnited shew thy sinne and cursed plight sith meeke Confession grace for sinne procures Weighing my deeds I finde too light they be yet more then I can beare nay me they quell So am farre lighter if thou ballance me and yet my lightnesse weighes me downe to Hell Shame shall not let me though it boile my Bloud t' vnfold the foule diseases of my Soule To him that can and will so doe me good and make her Angell-faire though ougly-foule My Time then to my shame I must confesse vnto my Soules Physitian grace to winne Hath all in sinne beene spent yet ne'erthelesse too short I thought it for my shortest sinne If I at any time did seeming-good t' was but corrupt or counterfaite at least And so t' was but well done in likelihood being but a sinne well-coulored at best My deeds with ill haue then depraued bin
that should make me loue thee more I made the wrest to rend my loue from thee So both with mine and others gifts did gore the Giuers heart erst split for loue of me And if I made as seldome so I did a Cou'nant with mine Eye that it should gaze No more on Beauty yet the more forbid the more thereby it glanc'd on Beauties Blaze Alas how brutish haue I bin the while that like a Beast haue swayed beene by sense And made my Reason obey Affections vile repugnant to mine owne Intelligence O life dead life depriu'd of life of grace how stirr'st thou so without that vitall pow'r Thou art too proud and yet too beastly base at highest height but like a fading Flowre O Lord of life a death it is to mee to minde my life so drown'd in deadly sinne Which though it Be and moue and liue in Thee yet as without thee it hath cursâ—d bin For I haue made no scruple to offend but with such boldnesse haue I sinn'd as it Had beene a meane but to a blessed end so seem'd to sinne with Will enforc'd by Wit Nay should I bring my best deeds to thy Test they 'le proue but drosse of mâ—eâ—e Hyâ—ocrisie Or Vice in Vertues habit at the best which is too bad for basâ—st Pietie With Iacobs voyce and Esaus hands I held my Soule to sinne and good opinion too The wicked so the World at will doe weild which faine I would but that I cannot doe The World 's t'vnweildy for my feeble gripe it still fals from me sith I cannot hold And at each fall thou giu'st me Lord a stripe sith though I cannot weild it yet I would Yea would much rather then my wilde affects or ought that holy men doe take in hand For my best doings my iust doubt suspects sith they in doubt of doing ill doe stand How tedious Time hath seem'd when I haue praid how wearisome the practise tir'd how soone How much distracted and how well apaid when it was done though done ere well begunne So was I like but one of Pilates Slaues that croucht to thee ô Christ but to offend So my best actions are but holy braues that haue more shew then strength to foile the Feend Haue I done good to any if I haue t' was but of debt and though it were but lent I prizde it more and bragd of what I gaue so all my good was done with ill intent Haue I discours'd of things that heauenly were In curious Questions lightly it was done As where Heau'n stands and Hell it locall where not how to come to Heau'n and Hell to shunne I haue beene prompt to learne what Wisedome would abhorre to teach and I haue Eares and Eyes To heare and see but what she scornes t' vnfold for I attend to nothing that is wise What shall I say that haue so much to say for endlesle plaint holds endlesse Sinne in chase My first was filth my progresse Sinne my stay is double death without Gods treble grace O Sinne the Soules death and of Death the life I would not shunne thee when at first I might And now I cannot without endlesse strife then help me Grace with strong sinne still to fight My Soule is tir'd with vanitie and Sinne I loath to liue and yet I feare to dye Then wretch what should I doe but now beginne to dye to liue sith living-liuing-death is nye But ah alas could I weepe endlesly it were but meete mine endlesse sinnes to cleare But though I should lament them ceaselesly in longest mortall life too short it were Yet will I not dispaire no God forbid seau'n times a day the iustest men doe fall And though from men the fall and bruise be hid yet thou dost see them both who seest All. At all houres no man's wise for sober Noah may be oe'er-come with Wine stout Abraham too Through terror lye Meeke Moses may destroy th' Egyptian in his ire and so misdo Religious Ioseph irreligiously sweare by the life of Pharaoh faith to binde Gods Darling Dauid hide Adultery with murther of his Seruant true as kinde Wise Salomon the veriest Foole became when Pharos Daughter and his Pagan wiues Through grosse Idolatrie made him defame Gods truth so Blots the clear'st haue in their liues Saints so are call'd as eu'ry thing is nam'd of whatsoe'er therein most worthy is As Golden-mines are stiled so though fram'd more full of Drosse then Golden rarities And so the best men though inherent Vice may ouer-weigh their Vertue yet we see Th' are called vertuous by their Vertues price that doth out-price the Vice though more it be Then giue me courage Lord t' aduance my Hope to thy great mercy that doth equall thee And let All couerd with the Heau'nly Cope for thy deare Loue be but as Doung to mee Vaine pleasures packe Preferments-vaine auaunt that would but make me quite forget to dye My Soule ye Syrens doe no more enchaunt for if you doe I le breake your strongest Tye. And all my ioy shall now but be in griefe griefe for the Ioy which I conceiu'd in sinne So nought but dying shall be my reliefe for life well lost immortall life doth winne Lord giue me strength to offer violence to wicked Custome till I breake it quite And still to striue with Nature Sinne and Sense vntill they striue no more in Peace nor fight And for my Sinnes come all annoyâ—s on me in royall-armies till you blow me vp Aboue the â—unne and all dispights that be fall freâ—ly on me from my Sauiours Cup. Scorne me proud World still looke on me ascance deride me Diuell plague me doe thy worst Nay Lord from me conceale thy Countenance so thou in fine wilt blesse me so accurst And for I haue despis'd thee Lord of All let all that Is despise me till I dye Nay let disgrace with death vpon me fall so I may rise to grace and life thereby O thou my cursed Nature swolne with Pride swell not against contempt though ne'er so vile Take all and more if more can be beside contempt of all and ioy therein the while For being nothing of my selfe but Sinne or else besides that But I Nothing am How can or sinne or Nothing Glory winne but through a World of woe contempt and shame Skill will and pow'r then giue me Lord to breake this head-strong Iade my Flesh and make it glad To beare a World of woe to make it meeke and but for falling vnder it be sad I am thy Workâ— then worke thy Will in mee And make my Carriage Lord from fallingâ—ree â—ree That the vertuous haue the Promises of this life as well as of that to come THy Friends deare Lord are too much honored thy Persecutor to thee reconcil'd Had Sacrifices to him tendered so much the World is forc'd t' adore thy Childe The People freely their possessions sell to lay the Price at thine Apâ—stles feete To whom the worst of Ils doe fall out well and Gall
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
dye for Death came by his Fall Then cannot that high Pow'r That fashion'd him of nought and gaue him Breath make him re-made eternally endure The Wonders which he workes continually are not admir'd sith they familiar be For Admiration's dull'd by frequencie else should we wonder at what still we see The Face of mankinde wer 't not vniforme men could not be from beasts discern'd and showne And yet had All in all respects one Forme One from another hardly could be knowne Thus Likenesse with great Difference rests we see in one selfe Thing which for such common are We ne'er admire them but we muse when we see but two Faces like for that is rare And at the Load-stone we doe wonder lesse that naile by naile doth many nailes vphold By touching but the first yet sith it is so common we admire not as we should I might be endlesse in recounting such most strange Effects whereof no Cause is knowne Then were it madnesse not to grant as much Pow'r to th' Almightie and to Natures Crowne No he hath said It by whose onely WORD all is that is and All hath made of nought Whose Power is Infinite which can accord Repugnancies themselues but with a Thought For there is nothing that doth argue Pow'r but he can doe it what he cannot doe Is fraile inglorious base and most impure else can he doe it and vndoe it too If Gods Prerogatiue were crusht so close that he no more then Man had pow'r t' effect How were he God nay God himselfe he showes in that his Workes farre passe our Intellect Then let 's beleeue Omnipotence can speake no Word it cannot doe how e'er to vs It seemes impossible for we are weake and weakly iudge of hard things to discusse But let vs rest on that ne'er-failing WORD nay so put vp our Rest that eu'n our Soules Yea all our All may thereby be assur'd in so faire Hazard that no Chance controules For should we rest but on those restlesse Stayes that Reason betraid by sense erects we shall But rest on that 's betrayed and betrayes so in right sense and Reason needes must fall But say there were no rising after Death by vertuous life what doe or can we lose But spend our Time in gaining longer breath for Vertue Lifes foes Passions doth repose And if there were no Hell to punish sinne yet we in Reason should not sinne sith it Is so obsceane and thereby nought we winne but selfe-condemning of our Will and Wit But we that doe beleeue we eft shall rise haue great aduantage of the rest for we Haue what they haue though fewer vanities and by our faith in case farre better be For if there be another Life than this wherein all weale or woe we must sustaine Then by Good workes and Faith we shall haue blisse but faithlesse men all labour for their paine For impious Atheists take more paines for Hell tiring themselues with ioyes that vexe their Sp'rits Then pious men still praying in their Cell doe take for Heau'n for That the Sp'rit delights Deare Lord then so dispose my Wit and Will that I may rest vpon thy Word which makes Me blest and worke in rest thereafter still with more delight then Sense in pleasure takes In sacred Raptures take my Soule to thee and her embrace with kisse of endlesse Peace That being so familiar still with mee I at thy Doome may hopefull be through these That though the horror of that day be such as may all Sense confound with feare past feare Yet may I hope though yet I feare too much thou wilt not damne him whō thou heldst so dear Meane while so binde my Sense with vertues bands that it may neuer moue but as she shall Loose or restraine it or thy sacred Hands all whose restraints are free from paine or fall And let that Trump as with a Saint it did still in the Organ of my hearing sound That shall to Iudgement call both quicke and dead that so Ieuer may be ready found For yet I doe but doate on false Delights Delights alas that stile they ill sustaine Though false be added for they vexe the Sp'rits of all that taste them so they are but paine Vncharme the Charmes then of these grieuous ioyes that still allure my sense of them to taste And let my pleasure be in all annoyes for thy deare Loue vntill I breath my last For were I here to liue as many a yeere as yeeres haue moments in extreame annoy Yet it vnworthy of Heau'ns glory were sith it is infinite in time and ioy But now by Nature though it should extend my life beyond my life I cannot last Longer then one that 's making now his end for my best part of life long since is past My best said I ô sname if so it were I should dispaire or if I did not so I should be franticke with distracting feare that my best time in madnesse did bestow But Thou that of the worst canst make the best make this my worst time best my later Age Make better then my first for I detest to thinke on That so fond so full of rage Let me relapse no more in word nor deede Relaspses more doe vexe me then my sinne And yet my sinnes still make my Conscience bleede but my Relapses ranckle still therein Relaps in sicknesse fleshes death doth threat Relaps in Heresie the death of Sp'rit In Error it makes falshood hugely great and so in sinne it makes it infinite In Grace sweet Sauiour there is neuer stay a Progresse or a Regresse still there is But from a Regresse let me euer stray although thereby I goe about to blisse What bootes it me to day to fight with sinnes if I to morrow follow Sathans Flagge It is th'vnwearied fighter glory winnes the weary but base Baggage and the Bagge Then let the dreadfull day of mine Accounts be so annext vnto my Heart and Braine As if they were one Essence and the founts of teares mine Eyes still farre out-flow the Maine And fixe mine Eyes still on my Mother Earth to minde from whence I came and where I must Or else on Heau'n from whence my Soule had birth but looke on no meane Things for them to lust Although such Continence be not without their outward spight that Vertue inly Hate For when we first to liue well goe about w' are crost and recrost by the Reprobate As thy deare Seruant walking on the Maine vpon thy bidding fainted when he saw A sodaine Gust make rough th Oceans Plaine inuokt thy help neare sincking through that Flaw So in this World a Sea of woes and spight thou bidst vs come to thee but as wee hie Huge Stormes of troubles threat to sinke vs quite then helpe we craue with feare at point to dye Yet Constant Lord let me no more relapse no more no more once more would kill me quite Rather then so let thy fierce Thunder-claps dash me to dust so thou receiue my
well And while I liue I le be the leading-Bell That shall thy lowdest Peales of prayses ring Which in the Clouds shall ne'er leaue ecchoing Or be the Trumpet of thy Fame to fill Th' Aetheriall Lofts with Straines more lofty still That when Times wings his Funerall flame consumes Thy Fame shall soare with faire vnsinged Plumes An Epitaph on the death of the right vertuous Lady Liegh sole Daughter of the same right Honourable Lord Elesmere Lord Chancellor of England which Lady deceased the third day of Aprill Anno Dom. 1612. HEre dead shee lies who while aliue she was was Graces Inne Wits Home and Vertues Rest Whose WORTH was of true Worthinesse a Masse yet well proportion'd for her humble Brest A Wise and Mother as it 's hard to say whose losse was great'st her childrens or her phoares To eyther wisely kinde to each a stay that made one loue the other loue and feare To her all-honour'd Sire she was as deare as she was vertuous which was as the bloud In his Hearts Center which to him is neare yet dearer held his flesh in one so good Who dide as liue she did in grace and peace more laden with good-deeds then idle-dayes Leauing her worth for worthinesse increase for Wiues vnborne to imitate and praise Who had at once two Husbands yet she liu'd of Wisely truth a constant Paragon One Husband heauenly was who hath depriu'd the Earthly of her for himselfe alone Yet yer he had her bought her with his Bloud But with her bought a World of Womanhood Then maugre Time Death these Lines tho weake May leade all Times all good of her to speake Here Muse now close the Paper-tombes of these Two vertuous Soules and Bodyes Aunt and Neece with this A good Name is better then a good Ointment and the day of death then the day that one is borne Eccles. 7.3 The Picture of an happy Man HOw blest is he though euer crost that can all Crosses Blessings make That findes himselfe ere he be lost and lose that found for Vertues sake Yea blest is he in life and death that feares not Death nor loues this Life That sets his Will his Wit beneath and hath continuall peace in strife That striueth but with fraile-Desire desiring nothing that is ill That rules his Soule by Reasons Squire and workes by Wisedomes Compasse still That nought obserues but what preserues his minde and body from offence That neyther Courts nor Seasons serues and learnes without experience That hath a Name as free from blot as Vertues Brow or as his life Is from the least suspect or spot although he liues without a Wife That doth in spight of all debate possesse his Soule in Patience And pray in loue for all that hate and hate but what doth giue Offence Whose Soule is like a Sea too still that rests though mou'd yet mou'd at least With loue and hate of good and ill to whaft the Minde the more to Rest. That singly doth and doubles not but is the same he seemes and is Still simply so and yet no Sot but yet not knowing ought amisse That neuer Sinne concealed keepes but shewes the same to God or moe Then euer for it sighes and weepes and ioyes in Soule for grieuing so That by himselfe doth others mete and of himselfe still meekely deemes That neuer sate in Scorners Seate but as himselfe the worst esteemes That loues his body for his Soule Soule for his Minde his Minde for God God for himselfe and doth controule CONTENT if It with him be odde That to his Soule his Sense subdues his Soule to Reas'n and Reas'n to Faith That Vice in Vertues shape eschewes and both by Wisedome rightly waigt'h That rests in action acting nought but what is good in deed and shew That seekes but God within his thought and thinkes but God to loue and know That all vnseene sees All like Him and makes good vse of what he sees That notes the tracts and trickes of Time and flees with th' one the other flees That liues too low for Enuies lookes and yet too high for loth'd Contempt Who makes his Friends Good-men and Bookes and nought without them doth attempt That liues as dying liuing yet in death for life he hath in hope As far from State as sinne and debt of happie life the meanes and scope That feares no frownes nor cares for fawnes of Fortunes fauorits or foes That neither checkes with Kings nor Pawnes and yet still winnes what Checkers lose That euer liues a light to All though oft obscured like the Sunne And though his Fortunes be but small yet Fortune doth not seeke nor shunne That neuer lookes but grace to finde nor seekes for knowledge to be knowne That makes a Kingdome of his Minde wherein with God he raignes alone This Man is great with little state Lord of the World Epitomiz'd Who with staid Front out-faceth Fate and being emptie is suffic'd Or is suffic'd with little sith at least He makes his Conscience a continuall Feast This Life is but Death THogh Fire by warmth cheers life great heat brings death though good Aire life detaines bad life defines Though Water stayes our thirst it stops our breath though fruitfull Earth doth feede the barren pines Too-much o'er-fils too-little feebles life Wealth wants not Cares Want wants all but Cares Solenesse brings sadnesse Company but strife and sodaine Ioyes doe kill as well as feares Meane mirth is rationall extreame is mad no good so good but here it 's mixt with ill Nay too much goodnesse is exceeding bad yea bad if blinde it be is true Good-will And saue the High'st our highest gaine is losse Then life 's but death where al things are so crosse True Wealth THat Grace that neyther wonders grieues nor ioyes at Fortunes vtmost seeking but to finde What Bounty still in action best imployes nor wailes the want that beggers not the Minde That neyther grieuing sighes nor ioying sings that shines most glorious in most gloomy dayes Pleas'd with the state her owne endeuour brings that droupes not with defame nor swels with praise That scornes Disdaine disdaining nought but vice and Greatnesse rates by Goodnesse doing nought But good for ill and that for auarice of goodnesse onely by her onely sought That Time and Wealth well spent doth not deplore This is that Wealth without which Wealth is poore An Angel-like Man HE which prouokt endures as borne to beare and lookes alike in greatest weale and woe That so loues good that ill he nought doth feare and ebbes in Minde when Fortunes most doe slow That bounds Desire with lesse than he enioyes for onely nothing's lesse then Nature needes That holds all Vertues deare all else but toyes and meekely scowres Prides rust from his bright deeds That 's better than hee seemes yet seemes the best but without scandall seekes to seeme the worst That quell'd with Crosses thinkes him highly blest and for the Blisse of all would dye accurst In
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-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
bee 't violent quicke or slow A Saint as Man may seare and faint in death As Christ did dying yer he yeelded Breath Let this Cup passe was Terrours proper voyce yet vtter'd by our Sauiours sacred Tongue Our flesh he tooke annoi'd did make that noise fore-feeling it should be with Torments stunge My God my God why hast forsaken me vnto our Flesh intirely did belong Then may true Martyrs in Death drouping be With sense of pain but God that gaue them strength To stand to him through him preuailes at length For t is not hard when Gods soft comforts cheere our Soule to suffer torments to endure But when such fauours are turn'd all to feare and in distresse of Minde to hold vs sure To God and for him all annoyes to beare that is a Miracle perform'd by Grace Past Natures best performance and is deere Vnto the Doner then who doth the same Goes straight to glory through Afflictions flameâ— For Works of Iustice we should rather doe than those of Grace now Iustice wils that we In Truths defence should dye with torment too though Grace to vs a stranger seeme to be Obedience farre excelleth Sacrifice the first is duty in the high'st degree The other in our Wils Deuotion lies Then courage in our Death is no true Signe Of life else-where without the Cause diuine For through Vaine-glory some in Death haue seem'd as brauely resolute as Saints haue bin Nay oft the first haue beene the better deem'd by outward-sight that seeth nought within Leaena being but a Curtezanâ— tyring her Tortures though she dide for sinne Spat out her Tongue that to accuse beganne And many more of like sure so haue dide Then by braue dy'ing plain Truth 's not iustifide But dye they how they can that dye for Truth they stoutly dye sith they dye willingly But much more they that dye in sportfull youth though Deaths ougliest face may daunt their eye When they behold him yet if they endure that feare and paine which after they must try They stoutly dye though saint be all their pow'r Nay more they doe sith they so little can Flesh is but mire the Minde doth make the Man But see what ends the Tyrants erst haue made that of Gods Saints made ceaselesse Butchery Nero the chiefe that first did them inuade in his owne bloud his murdring hands did dye And while he bled his last he crying said Foulely I liu'd and dye more filthily Thus for his paines in paining he was paide Domitian by his Seruants being slaine For doing like the like reward did gaine Fell Maximinus with his Sonnes was brought to selfe same issue Decius with his Frye Incurr'd the like Valerianus caught by him that swaid the Persian Monarchy Was cag'd in Iron more fast then Lyons are who in the end being flaid dide wretchedly But Dioclesian worst of all did fare For he fell mad â—o made himselfe away While fire from Heau'n his House did leuell lay So of the like in life and their Degrees Iâ— might count many dire and awfull deaths All dranke Gods vengeance Vials to the lees in their bloud o'erwhelm'd they lost their breaths For God vnstings such angry Waspes and Bees sith each their Stings in Saints too often sheathes God burnes his Rods when he hath paid his fees Yet Stings of spight in th' Head of Pow'r with wit Can sting the World to death if Heau'n permit But howsoe'r th' Almighty throwes his Rods into the fire when he his Ire doth cease Yet oft the scurged fall to greater ods with Goodnesse than before The Churches peace Makes her more loose then when shee 's bound to fight vncessantly with foes that her disease For they liue wrong that rest to much in Right Mettall though Siluer resting long vnscowr'd Will canker or with filth be quite obscur'd For ah this Witch the World with pleasing charmes so lullabies our Sense in soft delights That though we be vpon our guard in armes yet we are taken in our Appetites And made to serue the Diuell and our Flesh in strictest Bondage while their Parasits Sinne-soothing Pleasures doe our Sense refresh To serue them with the more alacritie So â—lee le ts Grace our Sense to mortifie A Parable Wee ' are like a Man chast by a raged Bull who in his flight into a Well doâ—h fall And in the fall by chance he lighteth full vpon a Tree that there growes in the Wall And resting there there sets his Soules delight but looking better on the place withall He spies two Mice one blacke the other White Who still the Roote of this his rest doe gnaw And more and more asunder it doe saw Then vnderneath he lookes and there espies a gaping Dragon threatning to deuoure him And at his feete foure striuing Serpents rise yet looking vp he spies what doth allure him And makes him deeme he is from dangers free a little Honie which he euer tryes Cleaues to a branch of that vntrusty Tree For which these dangers he neglects and still That Hony sicks yet ne'er can licke his fill The Morall The Bull is Death the World the Well the Tree our time of life the white Mowse and the blacke The Day and night the striuing Adders be the Elements that striue vs still to wracke The Diuell the Dragon and the Honie is our whitest Pleasures that are lin'd with blacke And blacke within for losse of Glories Blisse Who therefore would not deeme that man were mad That in such dreadfull dangers can be glad What comfort can we haue then in a place that 's by the Prince of darknesse gouerned Where eu'ry thing is in a cursed case and by Gods foes and good-mens peopled Where Paines be riâ—e extreame and infinite but Pleasures few and false fraile dull and dead Which at the best at least doe vexe the sp'rit Where Plentie's full of perill Want of woes And in a word where all that ill is flowes Then cast we off these pleasures that but cast a mist before our Eyes and mocke our Sense But let vs hugge those paines and hold them fast that bring eternall ioyes for recompence Now if this Potion worke not in sicke-mindes at point of death is their Intelligence Nay Death the pow'r of all their forces bindes In few Great things by greatest mindes are sought The small but seeke for shades the shels of Nought To attaine a quiet Life WHo would in quiet spend his life must shunne the Cause of strifes Effect And yet with Vice still liue in strife so Strife retaine and it reiect 1 Hold no Conceit 'gainst that Conceit the King maintaines vnlesse it be Against that Faith whose forme and waight with TRVTH well tride doth still agree 2 Finde neuer Fault but when the same concernes the Honor of the High'st Or else the Kings to heare whose blame is blame which oft to Death is nigh'st 3 No Wager lay for that but stirres the Losers heart to hate and ire Which oft enflameth Ciuill-warres
yet so much as smiled on me No force sith I my selfe the better know and see the World while me it doth not see Feare they her frowns that care but for her fawnes I feare nor care for neyther being white With Cares and Feares for my Graue open yawnes to swallow me to saue me from her spight Enough great Lord my Proheme is a Feast whereat my Muse doth surfet with sowre-sweetes Hard to receiue and harder to digest where loue and rashnesse Rime and Reason meetes But if they meet with Griefe that meets with thee I grieue with ioy for thou art fast and free A Dumpe or Swans-song ALl in a gloomy shade of Sicamour that did his leaues extend like Shields to beare The Beames of Phebus darted in his pow'r at those that vnderneath them shrowded were I me reposed while my Thoughts did range here there eu'ry wher wher thoghts might roame So by their change at last my latest change became their Subiect with my latest Home And when with Trauell they themselues had tyr'd I likewise tir'd with life that stirr'd them too Thus flasht I out with sacred fury fir'd and my thoughts Bottome thus did I vndoe Why long I longer here to liue in death for life if mortall dyeth all the while Be'ing but a puffe but of the weakest Breath yet blowes me Weakenesse into strong Exile As soone as borne was I condemn'd to dye since when Time hath but executed me Yet life prolongs in dying misery so yet I am as those that dying be To him that gaue me life a death I owe which sith I can I must and shall repay His Powr's as great to take as to bestow then will I pay him though I quite decay I dead in Sinne his onely Sonne he slew to please his Iustice and to make me liue Sith me he bought I le giue him then his due which had I haue much more then that I giue Death soone will rid me from this lifes annoyes Annoyes that nought can rid saue death from life And put me in possession of those Ioyes that are as farre from end as free from strife And wer 't not madnesse to repine that I had not had life when Eue did Adam wiue Then t is but all alike to liue and dye as t is Not to haue liu'd and not to liue Then life IS not that not immortall is for mortall life is but Deaths other name Nor is that Blisse that is not fearelesse Blisse nor glory that is subiect still to shame The Dayes of Heau'n are datelesse sith the Sunne that makes them such doth neither set nor rise But stands as it shall doth and still hath done fixt in the Noone-stead of ETERNITIES Here one 's the ruine of another Day while like a ne'er-suffized Graue the Night Doth bury both in silence yet doth prey vpon them both till both play least in sight Death is the dore of life so would I liue then through this dore to life I needes must goe For through this dore Death LIFE it selfe did driue then sith LIFE dide for life I must doe so Two onely had the priuiledge to wend another way to life that mortals were But t was in firy Charets to this end that Fire should flesh refine yer it came there There where all ioyes vnited are of force for force vnited stronger makes the same The spirit and flesh both rauisht to diuorce and melt their pow'rs in loues eternall flame What Lets shall let me then from Paradise Mountaines of Gold and Rockes of rarest stone Crossing my Way I trampling will dispise if thither Hope but goe with me alone This WORLD 's a Vale that ceaseles teares do spoile and make it so a Bog or lothsome Lake Then who but Swine that pleasure take in Soile will here if they can choose abiding make Heau'n is my Home the HIGH'ST my Father is his SONNE my Brother Angels are my Friends Then while from Them I am I am amisse and lightly misse the Meanes to so good Ends. My Body 's but the Prison of my Soule which straits her more the more that Prison's free Time 's but the Rocke that vp my Life doth rowle and Earth the Place where Heau'n spinnes it me Here must I fight till Death for endlesse Life The Chariot of my Triumph then is Death Then as I would be free from endlesse strife to mount this Chariot I must spend my Breath The ground whereon I tread's the ground of Grieâ—e so that each step doth grieue me for it is A Sanguine-field that beareth Hurts in chiefe crost with sinister-bends and All amisse Then here to bee amisse is to be borne in Dolors Field to eu'ry foule Disgrace O Death then help my Soules house to adorne and let thine Armes be mine for lifes are base Am I not durt and dust then maruell is 't if I but with a thought be that or this A shadow by some substance doth subsist but all my substance but a shadow is The Sunne doth rise and set the Moone doth hold a constant course in most vnconstant state The Earth now quick with heate then dead with cold doth shew their plight that It preambulate Then ô yee Saints whose Bellies being rife with Waters both of life and grace be yee Pure Aquaducts by life to bring me life from the Well-head that fill may you and mee The Graue though wide it gape dismayes me not sith t is the Gate of glory rest and peace And though therein my mortall Part must rot yet thence it springs with much more faire encrease If the last breath we call our Bodyes death then may we call the other Breathings deaths Sith Life and death doe come and goe with Breath we haue as many deaths as we haue breaths Yet twixt this life and that we death doe call this ods there is while life doth last we dye But when Death comes we die no more but shall by dying well liue well immortally O then looke how the Labourer for Night the Pilot for the Port and for the Inne The Poast doth long so doth my tired spright by death still long for Life and rest therein Death is my Hope than feare not I his knife Feare is his Sting but Hope hath puld it out The mortall'st Wounds immortall make my life then better dye in Hope then liue in Doubt If Death be painfull then is paine sustain'd before or at the Article of Death But not before for then but thought is pain'd and at the instant it 's but rest of breath So that in Death is rest without disease then Death be kinde and rest my life in thee While others that doe cast such summes as these these Cyphers summe decyph'ring thee and mee And Cyphers cast lifes Cyphers to and fro that I their number seene may multiply Take nought from Nought nought remaines so the summe of All is lesse then vanitie Cyphers not Numbers call I them because they runne sans number roundly
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
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
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
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
my thoughts and Sinne are One and so most base And though so base they be yet n'erthelesse oft Grace they mind so Sinne presumes on Grace Lord how am I deprau'd by Sinne that can scarse thinke a thought but I doe sinne therein Then blessed Lord how canst thou chose but banne so vile a Slaue so subiect vnto Sinne I must not leaue Thee thus no though my Heart be well-neere Flint I must not leaue thee so With thee for Grace I le wrastle ere we part then let me finde it in mine Ouer-throw And if such Sinne thou dost forgiue by Grace and that where much is pardon'd Loue is much My Loue shall ouer-fill all Time and Place such is my Sinne my Loue shall then be such Deny me not deare Lord for I will take no nay of thee no thou dost me inuite Being heauy laden to thee ô then make me free there-from lest it doe quell me quite And learne me Lord to woo thee for thy Grace and winne it by my wooing to relieue me Thou canst soone lighten this my heauy case then thy Will 's good with good will then forgiue mee Make my Heart feele although the while it ake some Signe of Grace that thereby I may know Thou lou'st such wooers as no nay will take and Wrastlers such as will not let thee goe Though speake I cannot as I would my Spright stil woos thy grace with sighs then words more deep Thou know'st her speech and dost therein delight then ô let thy kinde Answere make mee weepe Thy Louing-kindnesse hath the pow'r to strike her dumbe with ioy and after make her shrill In thine applause for whom thou Lord dost like thou still mak'st drunke with ioy through thy good-will Then if I haue found Fauour in thy sight or els wilt giue me any hope of Grace Make druncke my Soule with thy sweet loues-delight and let her so ioy-rauisht thee embrace I sue to thee for that I needes must haue I cannot be without It sith within It 's all mine All then It I still will craue vntill by ceasely begging it I winne Then grant me grace from Sinne me still to free Else by thy grace I le cry for 't still to thee The Sinner confessing he can neyther will thinke nor doe any good thing without Gods preuenting and assisting Grace importunes the same O Thou that from the Bottome of Not-being didst raise me to BEE thus a MAN like Thee And ere I WAS through thy diuine Fore-seeing didst more then see what would become of me Giue giue me leaue thou God of endlesse Grace to enterplead with Thee without thine ire Why AM I if thou turn'st from me thy Face sith so a Brand I am but for Hell-Fire I could not choose but Be when thou would'st haue me for how could nothing crosse Almightinesse And now I Am am lost vnlesse thou saue me but none thou sau'st that still thy Will transgresse Nor can I doe thy Will without thou wilt and if thou wilt thy Will no Pow'r can crosse Much lesse my Weaknesse then if I be spilt it seemes thy Will although my blame and losse And yet thou sai'st thou wilt no Sinners Death thy Word is Truth it selfe then if thou would'st That I should liue ô let me spend my Breath as those whom thou by Grace from sin with-hold'st So in thy Will which no Pow'r e'er impugnes consists mine euerlasting Weale or Woe Then not to me so much as thee belongs to saue me from eternall ouerthrow I can but Will but well I cannot Will if thou first will it not nor euer shall Then will it first for I can will but Ill without thy Grace so Grace doth all in All. I cannot thinke then much lesse can I doe ought pleasing thee without thy Grace first got And yet to doe it still thou me dost woo which yet I cannot if thou doe it not For looke what good I doe it is not I but thou that dost it in and by me still Then still I can doe all things in and by thee Lord of Pow'r agreeing with thy Will O then incline my Will thy Will to doe and giue me Pow'r with Will else Will will faile Will thou but this then me thou need'st not woo because thy Will with mine must needes prâ—uaile So shall there be but one Will twixt vs two Graunt this deare Lord for this I thee doe woo The Sinner because of the darknesse of his vnderstanding confesseth his inabilitie to come to the knowledge of Gods will by his Word and desireth to be holp and enlightened by Gods spirit therin THou hast commanded Lord in eu'ry Want that Man thy Creature still should call on thee And thou his iust desires hast said to grant then now ô now thy Promise keepe with mee For now eu'n from the Bottome of the Deepe I cry to thee that art all Heights aboue I crying call or rather calling weepe for what I want that is thy Grace and Loue. Then as thou art still soothfast grant them me that by them still I may thy Heasts performe Then if thou would'st I should obedient be let Loue and Grace my will to thine conforme Lo I entend and by thy holy Grace will still contend thy holy Will to doe Then through the luster of thy brightest Face shew it that I may know and doe it too Giue that which thou hast giu'n me Pow'r to craue and Promise to obtaine thy guiding Spirit Thou still dost tender that which I would haue yet cannot take it if I lacke thy light A Chaos Lord of Darknesse still I am without th'inlightning Spirit still moue thereon Then let thy Spirit with light so cleare the same that it may be an Heau'n for thee alone Vnseele mine Eyes that long thy Light to see for they are blinded with black Ignorance Then Light of Lights to Heau'n direct thou me the rightest way with thy bright Countenance Men are of various mindes about this Way some this some say that way the way doth lie And to it Scripture Truths right Rule doe lay but Truth ne'er lay in such diuersitie For Truth is one but these are manifold then lead me in this way else stray I shall Incline my Will this rightest way to hold how euer strait and in it neuer fall O trade me in thy Paths I begge of thee with all the forces of my minde and mouth And when I step awry straight shew it me by inspiration of thy Spirit of Truth If in thy Word I looke for help herein from all Presumption keepe my priuate Spright For many Doctors so deceiu'd haue beene then make my Soule still see and take the right Thy Word 's a Lanthorne to direct their steps that are as humble as intelligent Yet oft the Wise thy meaning ouer-leapes while it 's reuealed to the innocent Thou spak'st therein to all Capacities and lispst to Babes to make them know thy minde Yet if thou guide them not and ope their eyes the
O let her be repos'd none outherwise then as they fashion her To harbor Thee that 's make her well dispos'd els let her rest be restlesse euer there My Sonne saith thou deare Lord giue me thy heart ô small request my Heart Lord what is it But one poore bit of wormes-meate can no Part of me delight thee but so vile a bit Why thou didst wholy giue thy selfe to me shall I returne thee then but that alone O t is sweet Sauiour most vnworthy Thee for which thou know'st it's meekly wo-begon Yet gladly would I giue it but it is so small vncleane vnquiet and accurst That I doe feare to giue it so amisse sith of all gifts it 's worser than the worst Yet take it Lord of Loue it is thine owne how e'er I haue abus'd it make it such As thou wouldst haue it let it still be knowne fit for thy Stampe vpon thy Trials Touch. O glorious King what grace is 't to our Hearts to be accepted and desir'd of thee Then take my Heart yea all mine other parts for they are safe in thee but lost in me And is this all thy gaine ô kindest Lord and is this all our gift one wretched Heart And for the same dost thou thy selfe afford then take it to thee Lord through ioy or smart For nothing can I giue thee but the same augments my gaine and glory endlesly Then take it wholy set me all on flame to melt me into thee by Charitie For were my Heart as great as is the Heau'n that all includes and that past price it were It should to thee desiring it be giu'n sith I haue thee for it who hast no Peere Then World be silent call it not againe Flesh be as still permit it still to goe And Diuell striue not for it is in vaine my God will haue it then it shall be so Vade vade for all you cannot fill my Heart my God alone can doe it and He must Haue it to fill then from me all depart that seeke to fill it but with winde or dust And sole Sufficer chaine it still to Thee with Adamantine Linckes of endlesse Loue That through those Straites which thou hast past for me it may be drawne to thee if slow it moue Let it attend thee to the Iudgement-Hall where thou wast doom'd to death and to the Hill Whereon thou suffer'dst let it taste thy Gall and on thy Crosse let it be fixed still That be'ing with thee thus plagu'd disgrac'd slaine It may with thee be rais'd and crown'd and raigne A soueraigne Salue against Sinne and Despaire out of S. Augustine DEare Lord when sinfull thoughts doe me assaile to thy deare Wounds then let me hye with speed When burning lust against my thoughts preuaile quench it by minding me how long they bleede In all Extreames I finde no Meane so good as thy wide Wounds to keepe my Soule still whole They cannot dye that drown'd are in thy bloud for that is Aqua vitae to the Soule Thy Death is my desert then doe I not lacke merits sith thy Death destroyes my Sinne Thy Mercy is my merit and my Lot is glories Crowne through my firme hope therein For if thy grace be great then is it cleare my glory shall be great and the more pow'r Thou hast to saue the lesse I ruine feare for Grace abounding makes Loues hope secure Yet I acknowledge mine iniquities and Conscience with her thousand Witnesses Accuse me of extreame impieties yet will I hope of mercy ne'erthelesse For where Sinne hath abounded there hath grace abounded more so loue enflaming in The grieu'd delinquent who doth enterlace sweete teares of Ioy with bitter Teares for Sinne. For who dispaires God vtterly denyes deny his Attributes himselfe deny His Iustice we prouoke his mercies rise but from him selfe who is selfe Clemencie Then let my thoughts still murmure while they will and aske why such a Sinner grace should seeke Yet in firme hope I will continue still sith he hath promised that cannot breake Who can doe what he will and he will doe what he hath sworne which is he will make whole The broken Heart for sinne and grace it too yea help contrition in the willing Soule My Sinnes though great then me no whit dismay when his deare Death I minde for all my Crimes Can ne'er o'er-match his Mercies if I pray for grace to hope in his sure help betimes His Thorny Crowne and Naylâ—s that him transpierc'd assures my hope that He and I are One Which haue his Iudgemeuts gainst my sinnes reuerst if I but grieue for what I haue misdone Longius hath clear'd the sad coast to his Heart with his fell Speare that kinde to me made way There rest I now in Ioy and ioyfull smart of safety sure while there in hope I stay Vpon the Crosse he doth his Armes extend t' embrace the Contrite then betweene those armes Deuoutly will I throw me till mine end so safe I shall be there from foes and harmes He bow'd his Head before Death brake his Heart to kisse his Louers with the kisse of Peace Then still I le kisse him so shall I depart in peace to him that is my Sinnes release Sweet Christ embrace me then and kisse me till I dye to liue to clip and kisse thee still The crazed Soule being almost in dispaire desireth Grace to hope in Gods mercy LOrd in thy Loue let me be none of them that loue but in a Calme a time beleeue But when a Storme ariseth doe blaspheme and with infernall S'prits thy Sp'rit doe grieue Thus what I need I craue but what I feare thou know'st deare Lord I feare I am too bold To seeke thy loue because I doe appeare no correspondence with thy loue to hold For he that merits hate Lord how can he straight looke for loue who hath shame deseru'd Seeke for immortall glory or to be from shame and paine which he deserues preseru'd He moueth but his Iudge to iustest wrath that being faulty lookes he him should cleare Without meete satisfaction for the scath which he hath done all these my hopes doe feare For he that is to shame and death condemn'd small reason hath to looke for high'st respect If but his death by grace might be redeem'd in sense it should be all he could expect But why ô why doe I now call to minde what I haue done to make my feares more rife Death I deserue yet seeke I life to finde that liue but to offend the Lord of life Can I still vexe my Iudge yet looke for grace and still prouoke my King yet seeke his loue Nay still but buffet my sweete Iesus face and yet expect he should my Iesus proue Alas how should he much lesse how can I such fauour seeke that so his Fauour wrongs Can wrong expect such right in equitie ô no for vengeance to the same belongs Vengeance belongs to wrongs so great so plaine as so to wrong a MAIESTIE so
it selfe to them made Sugar-sweet Then what but Gall it selfe will Honey seeke besides the Honey of thy sweetest Loue For who are more exalted then the meeke sith Heau'n and Earth of them doe most approue Then if thou make me meeke thou mak'st me more Then Heau'n and Earth for both will me adore For perfect Vnion with God and Grace to shunne all Lets that may hinder it WHen I sweet Sauiour minde the Orison thou mad'st thy Maundy-night with strong effect When as thou praid'st for perfect vnion betweene thy Father thee and thine elect I am thereby encouraged to pray that in that Vnion though too base I be I may b'included if so be I may being so vile so inward be with thee Which can be hardly if at all it can without my Soule forsake the Flesh and Fiend And all besides thee be it Angell Man or what soe'er for Thee her onely END But this shee cannot doe without thy Grace thy grace preuenting and assisting both Then grace her so that she may thee embrace and in respect of thee all others lothe By that deare vnexampled Loue that made thee hang all naked on the Crosse vouchsafe That I may liue with thee as nought I had besides though I the World besides should haue And if it may be Lord ô let me liue without the least Sinne for the least that is Doth let our Vnion and doth euer striue to seuer me for euer from thy Blisse Then grant that I my body so may keepe from all transgrâ—ssing that I may not moue One Ioynt t'vnioyne vs but my Soule to sweepe from all Pollution that doth let thy Loue. That from offending it may be as cleare as it was made by thee in Thee to rest And though she cannot be so perfect here yet make Her still desire the same at least Yea make me will no Ioy for that is none that is not in thee and the Bread I eate Let it no more delight me than a Stone but onely but to serue Thee take my meate And when my Palate proues some Foode too sweet then let me thinke how much more sweet thou art That mad'st it such so make me make it meete to make me taste thy Sweetnesse in my Heart So let me vse all Creatures pleasing Sense to send me to Thee Cause of that Effect So in them still taste but thine Excellence and by them still the more the same affect Yea let no Sweet of whatsoeuer kinde that 's but created once my Soule allure From thee sweet Lord or from continuall minde of thy deare Sweetnesse that all Sweetes procures But Loue and Meeknesse are the onely two to mâ—ke vs one â—eare Sweet that diuers be Then let high'st Loue and lowest Meeknesse too make one of twâ— that 's one of thee and mee And meeke to make me let me euer minde I am nought haue nought know nought nought can do And nought desire nor seâ—ke but Grace to finde to loue thee highly and be lowly too Then make me rich in Soule and poore in spirit rich in good deeds and yet most poore in thought When I doe best to weene I worst doe merâ—â— and when most good to thinke I am most nought So by the By-path that but Fooles doe finde of true Simplicitie that 's iust and free To runne to Thee and leaue the World behinde to thinke me mad for running so to Thee But let me so be still besides my selfe and still besides the Way the World doth roame Though it with Flowers be strowde and pau'd 〈…〉 yet set me flie it in my hying home The Heau'n-rapt Saint was so himselfe beside for hee all eartly Dainties held as Doung And while as mad the most did him deride he went to Thee a narrow way and long Nay thou thy selfe dear Lord that all dost schoole because thou didst elect this Way to goe And that reiect attir'd wast like a Foole and so esteem'd then let me foole it so But hide my life in thee so shall I liue a light to all that walke in wayward moode For them thou hid'st that good example giue from eu'ry Ill then let me giue this good But when I giue it let me thinke I giue the good thou gau'st for all good gifts are thine So shall I rightly thinke while â—o I liue and all the praise thereof to thee resigne So let me doe and thinke so shall I gaine True Vnitie with thee in Ioy and Paine The Sinner in great sorrow for Sinne relyeth on God for grace and comfort ON thy help Lord I relye then poore I Perish must if thou restraine it O then stretch thy helping-hand or command That I may with speede obtaine it For as one forgotten quite out of sight I forlorne in sorrow languish Help ô help me then with speede for I feed As on Bread on nought but Anguish If I sinne I sigh therefore and deplore That I haue in ought offended Yea my Soule doth waste with woe sith I know Sinne doth marre what Thâ—â—s hast mended Faine I would then cease to sinne and beginne Now to liue as thou hast willed But if by Thee that didst fire that desire It be not of me fulfilled I at best but well shall will doing ill Then I shall for it be vexed So shall I but sinne and grieue while I liue And in Conscience be perplexed It is tedious to my Sp'rit day and night Thus to sinne then pine in passion For being staid yet still to fall is no small Signe of death or reprobation Help then help me Lord lest I doubtfull dye Make my sorrowes passe my sinning That I may so cease to sinne so to winne Better end then my beginning For in sinne conceiu'd I was so alas Sinnefull am sith so conceiued Then of force sith I am such doe not grutch I should be to Grace receiued With more griefe my Sinne I wound than I found Pleasure in the sinne committing O then let my sorrowes still sinning kill While thy Graces vs be knitting Blessed God then make me grieue while I liue For my grieuing thee so blessed Let my Teares still quench the fire of thine Ire Till I be of Grace possessed So shall I to shunne thy wrath tread the Path Of thy Biddings till my dying Or on winges of Loues desire still aspire To thee then ô take me flying The Sinner acknowledging repugnant desires in himselfe desireth to be enabled to performe his good desires I Would be thine and I would haue thee mine deare Lord and yet I crosse mine owne desires For still I sinne then cannot I be thine yet faine I would with thee be still entire Then I desire what my desires resist ô strange repugnance would I thee enioy And yet in that which seuers vs persist then my desires doe my desires destroy True Lord how euer false this seemes to be it false but seemes but it 's too true herein For my poore Soule would nothing more then thee and yet my Soule doth
much more within My Lifes-bud blasted was with heate of bloud the Flow'r then needs must fade and Fruit decay Nay leaues and Branch haue perisht with the Bud and now the Truncke is turning into Clay Lord how shall I thus soild with Sinne for shame appeare before thy Glory I alas Am but Confusion euer out of frame and was at best ere fully fram'd I was The least of all my Sinnes will be at least a most seuere Accuser but the whole Equall to that which thou dost most detest with but a thought confounds my thoughtfull Soule O Christ thy Wounds renued by my Sinne still bleed to my Confusion for I faint At that which others still are strength'ned in so thy all-sauing bloud doth me but taint Sweete Christ yet be my Iesus though I be thus quite o'er-whelm'd with sins coÌ„founding floud And in thy bloud I shed still rince thou me vntill thine Ire be quenched in thy bloud Yea in thy Wounds as Ionas in the Whale saue me from drowning in thy doomes-profound Let Mercies Beames my filth of sinne exhale and it dispieese that it no more be found So shall I cast on Safeties Shore by thee Still praise thy Grace for so securing me The carefull Soule because of the momentany condition of transitory life desireth to wash away the filth of sin with the teares of continuall penitencie SIth on this moment of fraile Life depends th' eternall weale or woe of humane Breede And that no meanes can long deferre their ends let Teares still feede me Lord till Wormes I feede For Teares for Sin doth Sin through grace destroy so kill their Cause whereon who feeds shall liue Where they that sow in teares shall reape in ioy then let my Teares me dead in Sinne reuiue They were they foode ô Christ that couldst not sin and yet for others sinne still weptst then I That liue a life that 's quite o'erwhelm'd therein had need to weepe till drown'd in teares I dye Happy that Soule that on a Sea of Teares sailes in Faiths Ship by Hopes securest Cape Vnto the Port of Peace and with her beares Good-workes that make the Worker wracke escape This World 's but Sorrowes Sea whereon mankinde is tost with Stormes of Troubles that arise By Enuy Malice or Faâ—es wayward winde whiles Life to Death more swift then Swallow flies If in the way a Calme the Course prolongs it holds vs but to griefe resembling Ioy While Pleasure with her charming Syren-Songs o'erwhelme vs in the end in deep'st annoy Twixt Silla and Charibdâ—s Ioy and Griefes fraile life still floates and wrackes in Eyther oft Which equally to Death betrayeth Life but low estate lesse sinckes then that aloft Why should we then prize worldly things so much which haue no good but as they vs respect And lightly weigh those Treasures without which we haue no Goodnesse but are meere Defect Honor and Pow'r Health Beauty Strength and Wit are but as Smoake that comes from troubled fire The more it growes the lesse continues it and comes to nought whan â—t doth high'st aspire To be in Princes grace which all desires procures but Pride which blindes our Iudgements sight While like a siled Doue we Lord aspire till sou'raigne heate at height doth sinke vs quite Then t is in vaine to trust in Princes grace which pleasure or their profit may procure And when these faile they streight auert their Face but Lord thy Grace is euer free as sure Then let me wholy on thy Grace depend yet so as still I worke it to encrease So it with me shall worke too to the end and at the end with me shall rest in Peace To which deare Lord vouehsafe thy Grace may goe With my toil'd Soule that cannot rest but so A short Meditation of the breuitie of life with an Incitation to make good vse of the present time WOldst thou be spurr'd to run the way of truth then see how time doth run with thee away Youth comes on Childhood Man-hood comes on Youth on Man-hood Ages and Age at Death doth stay So Time ascends and descends with such haste vpon the Scale of Lifes-gradation That liu'd we but to mend our misses past yet death would cease our work ere halfe were done Time-past is gone in it we cannot mend Time-future is vncertaine then therein We are vnsure our ill bents to vnbend the Present-time is ours to cease to sinne Yet that Time ceaseth while we thinke thereon Then if we mend not now now Time is gone A short meditation of Mans Miserie WHat was I am I or what shall I be I was nought am nought and for ought I do Shall be farre worse then nought ô wretched me why was I borne for nought and worser too This makes me to deplore my Day of Birth sith I was borne to so hard exigent As all men doe that doe enioy the Earth yet so enioy it as th' are ne'er content We hold that Infant but a Prodigie that in his Birth doth not the World salute With note of Present-future misery for that 's his Birth-right cleare and absolute In Sinne Originall was I conceiu'd in actuall Sinne I liue and I may taste Eternall paine for that I first receiu'd with that I liue in now and that is past I in the Wombe was loathsome in the World a Sacke of all Corruption in the Graue A Prey of Vermine and may thence be hurl'd to Hell if what Sinne spoyles Grace doe not saue When I was nothing then was I without Hope to be sau'd or Feare condemn'd to be Now of the first I hope but more doe doubt and of the last stand still in ieopardie I was such as I could not then be damn'd but now am such as hardly can be sau'd For at the first I was in cleannesse fram'd but now by me its more then most deprau'd Erect deare Lord my pristrine Puritie correct my present Vices and direct My future steps direct them Sinne to flye and to attaine the Grace of thine Elect So shall I praise thy Name with them and say Blessed be HIM that so inspir'd my Clay That our Saluation comes from God LOrd thou hast said thou mad'st not death theÌ„ let that which thou mad'st not neuer signiorize O'er me that thou hast made but Watches set to keepe death from me when from Death I rise If thou be sory for my Death then who shall let thy Ioy in giuing life to me If thou wilt thou canst saue me I not so I can but dye vnlesse I liue by Thee For I can will but can performe no good nor yet will good without my Will thou moue In thy good-will then lies my liuelihood and yet thou bidst me labour for thy Loue But Lord I cannot if thou help me not that 's make me willing and worke with me too Nor can I moue a Man but I must blot without thee so my Pow'r's but to vndoe For I would sometimes that I can but then I know not
sp'rit But let my sp'rit how e'er I dye deare Lord Wade through thy deepest Iudgements on thy Word The Sinner acknowledges and admires his owne frailtie desiring Grace and strength to stand in Vâ—rtue and with-stand Vice AFfliction still lyes heauie on my Soule which makes her stupid dry and dull to pray Then Lord vnlesse thou doe her pow'r controule she needes must sinke to Hell beneath her sway O Sinne that with high Hand dost hurle so low thou art sole Cause of his so bad Effect Thou NOTHING that dost all things ouerthrow not staid by Grace why dost me thus deiect O had I beene abortiue and dead borne or if not so the Font had rest my breath Then had I made a quicke and safe returne that now must passe in perill to my death I can but sinne then Iustice can but scourge so Sinne and Scourges wheeling o'er me goe Yea Sinne being quiet I it oft doe vrge so on me with it pull a World of woe Lord what am I that am so rarely fraile that can doe nothing that is sinne I can For Sinne is Nothing yet it doth preuaile against me Something that is marres a Man When I doe minde the strange Austeritie familiar with some reclus'd from this life The watching praying fasting charitie the fights with Flesh with Sinne the endlesse strife I am amaz'd with wonder grieu'd with shame nay waighing theirs with mine my conscience bleeds To see the ods ô fie I am to blame to call it ods sith it all ods exceedes For white and blacke doe farre lesse disagree then theirs and mine mine being lighty darke Theirs darkly light and lights the darke to see notorious I for sinne they Saints of marke So that I am confounded but to minde the ods surmounting ods betweene the two For in my selfe with Pride all ill I finde in them all good and yet most humble too Then sith Comparisons are but too blame betweene things so repugnant for they doe But shew the ods vnto the worsers shame I will forbeare and beare the blemish too For all reproch though infinite it were comes short of endlesse sinne in foule offence Then may I well that All as nothing beare which Centers but my sinnes Circumference For weake as frailtie is my strongest force in fight with vices and in ghostly warres At best no better then a liuing Corse and that the Vrne that but my Soule interres I fight but faint the first Incounter trying yet oft by standing on my strength too much I quite am foil'd that might haue foil'd by flying such is my rashnesse and my weakenesse such If I o'er come as seldome so I doe my spirit growes proud and confident withall So this farre worse then that doth me vndoe for spirituall pride still takes the lowest fall But when I fall thy help Lord I inuoke to raise me rais'd I fall to worser ill So seeme but leaue to craue though it I cloke but still to fall and to be raised still But to thee knower of all thoughts it 's knowne such Boones are sinnes that beg but leaue to sinne My Boones no better be for being downe I craue to rise by Grace to fall therein And though my Prayers aime at no such end yet in the end sith I but rise and fall It seemes I did but by the same entend to make my selfe thy Mercies Racket-ball Which falling hardest highest doth rebound but to doe ill that good thereof might rise Is Ill so ill as may the Soule confound then all that good in Soule-confounding lies To sinne of purpose but to make vs meeke augments the fault for t is presumptuous Sinne And who by Error Heau'nly Truth shall seeke shall lose her quite and Hell with Error winne Then Lord of Truth when I haue tane a fall let me desire to rise to fall no more So though thou bandy me from wall to wall yet keepe me vp at least with beating sore And if by weakenesse I shall sometimes slippe so stay me then that downe I fall not quite Let me at most if so at least but trippe then take the faster footing through thy might So shall I praise that Pow'r that stayes me so And euer ouercome an Ouerthrow THE DOLEFVLL DOVE OR Dauids 7. Penitentiall Psalmes somewhere paraphrastically turned into Verse Domine ne in furore Psal. 6. When Dauid by his sinnes had prouoked Gods wrath and now felt not onely his hand against him but also conceiueth the horrors of death euerlasting he desireth fornesse bewailing that if God tooke him away in his indignation he shall lacke occasion to praise him as hee was wont to doe whiles he was among men Then sodainely feeling Gods mercie he sharply rebuketh his enemies which reioyced in his affliction IN thy iust rage deare Lord reproue me not for iust it is sith so vniust I am Nor chasten me when thy fierce Wrath is hot lest I should be extinguisht yer the Flame Let thy strong Grace against my Weaknesse stand thy Grace so strong as it vpholdeth All And heale me Lord with thine all-helping Hand for eu'n my bones are bruised with my fall My Soule 's afflicted more then griefes afflict for griefes but pine but this doth quite vndoe Then Lord how long shall I a poore Relict endure these plagues that paine and pine me too O turne thy now auerted Face to mee to me that fades as flowres for want of Sunne And let my Soule be safe and sau'd by thee through Grace that hath to thee most glory wonne For Deaths fell torments are so violent that they constraine the Sense to minde but them Who then in Hell through hellish discontent can once but minde thee in such paines extreame My sorrow hath my Soule so ouer-fed that it conuerts mine Eyes to founts of Teares For eu'ry night in teares I rince my Bed and drowne my Couch in streames of griefes feares Mine Eyes are so o'ercast with clouds of Cares that they see nought but through those Water-streames My beauty 's gone while I away do weare among my Foes and these confus'd extreames But yet I feele thy Grace Lord worke with me then leaue me leaue me yee too idle Crue That yet still worke but worke iniquitie for God hath seene my Teares and heard me rue You are my Foes that yet would seeme my friends but Foe-like friends and all mine enemies God will cut off by diuers fearefull ends and soone confound you and your Trecheries To God the Father Sonne and Holy Ghost three Persons and one God all glory be As it was is and shall be in each Coast thoughout all worlds in all eternitie Beati quorum Psal. 32. Dauid punished with grieuous sicknesse for his sins counteth them blessed to whom God doth not impute their transgressions And after that he had confessed his sins and obtained pardon he exhorteth the wicked men to liue godly and the good to reioyce MOst blest are they how euer curst they be whose Crimes out of
to the Graue At which my Muse being now arriu'd shall pauâ—e referring these to those that Science haue To cast vp lifes accompt and to fore-cast the stricktnesse of Lifes great accompt at last ESSAIES The Foole hath said in his heart there is no God Psal. 14.1 THat GOD IS no Man euer made a doubt if doubt some did they did it not as Men For faithlesse men by meere sense GOD finde out what are these senselesse God-deniers then They are not Fiends for they haue humane Soules and Fiends confesse with feare there is a GOD Much lesse not Angels Beasts nor Fish nor Fowles for these praise God! What then Eu'n their owne Rod. Who doe themselves tormentingly confound hardning their Hearts and so plague Sinne by Sinne Yet ioy in that which doth their Conscience wound is 't possible such Creatures ere haue bin It 's possible for such there be God wot That know not God because God knowes them not No pleasure to the pleasure of the Spirit TWo Ioyes there are whereof the one is not of Flâ—sh the one that other of the Spirit The Spirits ioy is reall actiue hot but that of flesh is vaine cold dull and light How then can they be two if but one Be one is but is but meerely in Conceit Which in Conceit is forgde by Fantazie and whatsoe'er is forgde is but deceit Yet in this meere deceit most men conceiue most pleasure to consist and it to buy They most essentiall perfect pleasure giue so make their Iudgement giue their Sense the lye For Sense could neuer tell by her Receit That such Ioy Is that is but in conceit Vanitie of Vanities all is but Vanitie Eccles. 1.2 A Mortall Eye can see but mortall Things and whatsoe'er is mortall is but vaine Then all we see is vaine though Crownes or Kings yet Men will lose themselues the same to gaine And yet thy weene they winne by so great losse ô corrupt Iudgement Men made to be lost Who will all Vices hatcht in Hell engrosse them to retaile to get but Care with Cost It 's said Light gaine doth make an heauy Purse but this light gaine doth make an heauy Heart To gaine all blessings with Gods heauie Curse is too light gaine for such an heauy Thwart For who doth purchase All at such a Price Doth buy but extreame Vanitie with Vice Fly vaine Pleasures as Paines intollerable IF Vanitie be All and All be vaine how scapes he from this All that 's All in All It is because He euer doth remaine the Cause of Causes metaphisicall Sith fiends immortall are not vaine they are for Vanitie is but the Instrument Wherewith in sport they doe this All ensnare to bring the same to Be as they are bent And so vnbend their being and distort the euen Compasse that became their Forme So Vanitie them backward bends in sport and Sathan still in sport doth them deforme O then let All that would be bent aright Beware these sports that doe distort them quite To the good the Worst fals out for the Best THe Crosse and Crowne on Earth our value try as Crownes alone in Heau'n our vertue crowne In Earth if crown'd we swell in Heart too hie and vnder Crosses we lie basely downe But yet if Grace doe Nature ouer-sway and that a Crosse or Crowne alike we beare A pride of Grace our Nature will bewray so in our Nature Sinne though dead doth steere And yet this Pride doth humble vs the more for when we mind it griefe doth vs pursue So is our Sore still cured by our Sore for still we heale as we our griefe renew This is a Worke of Nature that of Grace And this and that runnes with vs all our Race To the Lady Anne Glemmam vpon the death of her noble Father TO lye downe vnder Crosses is to lye in our Confusion for that 's Cowardize And hath no taste of true Humilitie then such prostration is an abiect Vice Nor is 't the Way from Crosses to be free to sinke beneath the Crosse which weighes the more The more we vnder it so humbled be but HEE that bore your Sinnes It stoutly bore Yet is the Crosse impos'd to humble vs nor is 't remou'd till we be humble made How much more low so much more glorious so as the Crosse doth vs not ouer-lade Then if we meeke be made we winne by losse And cut a Crowne of Glory from the Crosse. That to sinne finally malitiously is irremissible THe oftner Sinne the more griefe showes a Saint the oftner Sinne the lesse griefe notes a Fiend But to sinne oft with griefe the Soule doth taint and oft to sinne with Ioy the Soule doth rend To sinne on Hope is Sinne most full of feare to sinne of malice is the Diuels Sinne One is that Christ may greater Burthen beare the other that his Death might still beginne To sinne of frailtie is a sinne but weake to sinne in strength the stronger makes the blame The first the Reede Christ bare hath pow'r to break the last his Thorny Crowne can scarse vnframe But finally to sinne malitiously Reede Crowne nor Crosse hath pow'r to crucifie That mortall Life is a mortall Plague THis Life of ours is call'd Life most amisse which may be tearm'd more truely lifes disease Whose perfect'st Pleasures are oppos'd to Blisse and greatest paines grow from her greatest ease One hath the Plague we say and he will dye that yet may liue then much more may we say That One hath Life and Death he cannot flye for Life 's a Sicknesse mortall eu'ry way Doth mortall life then bring the mortall'st death then no Disease so mortall as it is A Plague of Plagues then is our mortall breath yet mortall Men would still be plagu'd with this Though Life be Plague of Plagues yet this desire Is the high'st Plague whereto no Plagues aspire Too much Honie breakes the Belly SWeet honied Life thinkes one that Honie draines from bloomes of Heleboâ—e this vaine Worlds-wealth Which though It breakes his Belly yet his paines seeme to his Appetite true Signes of Health O bewitcht iudgement Senses râ—ft of Sense deeme yee that sweet that yeelds Effâ—cts so sowre That spoiles the Will and soiles th' Intelligence and Soule and Body quite in dung deuoure Yet those whose Spirits are turn'd to grossest flesh nay those whose flesh seemes turn'd to purest sp'rit Are thus bewitcht which Sweetes their Sense refresh who sting like Waspes if them they lose by might If thus they fare by whom the World is led What meruell though in sweete Sinne It be dead The Foole makes a mocke of Sinne. Pro. 14.9 WHo laughes at Sin for Sin can hardly weepe who ieâ—ts thereat is mad or misbeleeues Then sith the World still laughes at Debt so deepe it showes it madly sinnes and neuer grieues Sinne is a Stinger and who feeles it not is mortifide not to but in fowle Sinnes Then doth the World in Sinne but stincke and rot for it feeles not when
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