towre Above the sent of these inferiour things How happy is the Lark that ev'ry howre Leaves earth and then for joy mounts up and sings Had my dull soul but wings as well as they How I would spring from earth and clip away As wise Astrea did and scorn this ball of clay 3 O how my soul would spurn this ball of clay And loath the dainties of earths painfull pleasure O how I 'de laugh to see men night and day Turmoyl to gain that trash they call their treasure O how I 'de smile to see what plots they lay To catch a blast or own a smile from Cesar Had I the pineons of a mounting Dove How I would sore and sing and hate the love Of transitory toyes and feed on joyes above 4 There should I find that everlasting pleasure Which change removes not which chance prevents not There should I find that everlasting treasure Which force deprives not fortune dis-augments not There should I sind that everlasting Cesar Whose hand recalls not and whose heart repents not Had I the pineons of a clipping Dove How I would climb the skies and hate the love Of transitory toyes and joy in things above 5 No rank-mouth'd slander there shall give offence Or blast our blooming names as here they do No liver-scalding lust shall there incense Our boyling veins There is no Cupids bow Lord give my soul the milk-white innocence Of Doves and I shall have their pineons too Had I the pineons of a sprightly Dove How I would quit this earth and sore above And Heav'ns blest kingdome find with Heav'ns blest King Jehove S. AUGUST in Psal. 128. What wings should I desire but the two precepts of love on which the Law and the Prophets depend O if I could obtain these wings I could fly from thy sace to thy face from the face of thy Justice to the face of thy Mercy Let us find those wings by love which we have lost by lust S. AUGUST in Psal. 76. Let us cast off whatsoever hindereth entangleth or burdeneth our flight untill we attain that which satisfieth beyond which nothing is beneath which all things are of which all things are EPIG. 13. Tell me my wishing soul didst ever trie How fast the wings of red-crost faith can slie Why begg'st thou then the pineons of a Dove Faiths wings are swifter but the swiftest love XIV PSALM 84. 1. How amiable are thy Tabernacles O God of Hosts ANcient of dayes to whom all times are Now Before whose Glory Seraphims do bow Their blushing cheeks and veil their blemisht faces That uncontain'd at once dost fill all places How glorious O how farre beyond the height Of puzzled quils or the obtuse conceit Of flesh and bloud or the too flat reports Of mortall tongues are thy expreslesse courts Whose glory to paint forth with greater Art Ravish my fancy and inspire my heart Excuse my bold attempt and pardon me For shewing sense what faith alone should see Ten thousand millions and tne thousand more Of angel-measur'd leagues from th' Eastern shore Of dungeon earth this glorious Palace stands â—…efore whose pearly gates ten thousand bands Of armed angels wait to entertain Those purged souls for whom the Lamb was slain Whose guilâ—…lesse death and voluntary yielding Of whose giv'n life gave this brave court her building The lukewarm bloud of this dear Lamb being spilt To rubies turn'd whereof her posts were built And what dropt down in cold and gelid gore Did turn rich Saphyres and impav'd her floore The brighter flames that from his ey-balls ray'd Grew Chrysolites whereof her walls were made The milder glances sparkled on the ground And groundsild every doore with Diamond But dying darted upwards and did fix A battlement of purest Sardonix Her streets with burnisht gold are paved round Starres lie like pebbles scattred on the ground Pearl mixt with Onyx and the Jasper stone Made gravell'd causwayes to be tâ—…ampled on There shines no Sun by day no Moon by night The Pallace glory is the Pallace light There is no time to measure motion by There Time is swallow'd with Eternitie Wry-mouth'd Disdain and corner-haunting Lust And twy-sac'd Fraud and beetle-brow'd Distrust Soul-boyling Rage and trouble-state Sedition And giddy Doubt and goggle-ey'd Suspition And lumpish Sorrow and degen'rous Fear Are banisht thence and Death 's a stranger there But simple Love and sempiternall Joyes Whose sweetnesse neither gluts nor fulnesse cloyes Where face to face our ravish't eye shall see Great Eâ—…OHIM that glorious One in Three And Three in One and seeing him shall blesse him And blessing love him and in love possesse him Here stay my soul and ravish in relation Thy words being spent spend now in contemplation S. GREG. in Psal. 7. poenitent Sweet Jesus the word of the Father the brightnesse of paternall glory whom Angels delight to view teach me to do thy will that led by thy good Spirit I may come to that blessed Citie where day is eternall where there is certain securitie and secure eternitie and eternall peace and peacefull happinesse and happy sweetnesse and sweet pleasure where thou O God with the Father and the holy Spirit livest and reignest world without end Ibid. There is light without darknesse joy without grief desire without punishment love without sadnesse 〈◊〉 without loathing safetie without fear health without disease and life without death EPIG. 14. My soul pry not too nearly the complexion Of Sols bright face is seen but by reslexion But wouldst thou know what 's heav'n I 'll tell thee what Think what thou canst not think and heav'n is that XV CANTICLES 8. 14. Make hast my Beloved and be like the Roe or the young Hart upon the mountains of Spices GO gentle tyrant go thy flames do pierce My soul to deep thy flames are too too fiâ—…rce My marrow melts my fainting spirits fry I' th' torrid Zone of thy Meridian eye Away away thy sweets are too perfuming Turn turn thy face thy fires are too consuming Hast hence and let thy winged steps out-go The frighted Ro-buck and his flying Ro. But wilt thou leave me then O thou that aâ—…t Life of my soul soul of my dying heart Without the sweet aspect of whose fair eyes My soul doth languish and her solace dies Art thou so easily woo'd so apt to heare The frantick language of my foolish fear Leave leave me not nor turn thy beauty from me Look look upon me though thine eyes o'rcome me O how they wound but how my wounds content me How sweetly these delightfull pains torment me How I am tortur'd in excessive measure Of pleasing cruelties too cruel pleasure Turn turn away remove thy scorching beams I languish with these bitter-sweet extremes Hast then and let thy winged steps out-go The flying Ro-buck and his frighted Ro. Turn back my dear O let my ravisht eye Once more behold thy face before thou fly What shall we part without a mutuall kisse O who can leave so sweet a face
châ—…ldren whine for toyes S. BERN. That is the true and chief joy which is not conceived from the creature but received from the Creatoâ—… which being once possest thereof none can take from thee whereto all pleasâ—…e being compared is torment all joy is grief sweet things are bitter all glory is baâ—…enesse and all deâ—…ectable things are despicable S. BERN. Joy in a changeable subject must necessarily change as the subject changeth EPIG. 8. Peace childish Cupid peace thy singer'd eye But crios for what in time will make thee cry But are thy peevish wranglings thus appeas'd Well maist thou cry that art so poorely pleas'd IX ISAIAH 10. 3. What will ye do in the day of your visitation to whom will ye â—…lie for help and where will ye leave your glory 1 IS this that jolly God whose Cyprian bowe Has shot so many flaming darts And made so many wounded Beauties go Sadly perplext with whimp'ring hearts Is this that Sov'raign Deity that brings The slavish world in awe and stâ—…ngs The blund'ring souls of swains and stoops the hearts of Kings 2 What Circean chaâ—…m what Hecatean spight Has thus abus'd the Gâ—…d of love Great Jove was vanquisht by his greater might And who is stronger-arm'd then Jove Or has our lustâ—…ull god persorm'd a rape And fearing Argus eyes would scape The view of jealous earth in this prodigious shape 3 Where be those rosie cheeks that lately scorn'd The malice of injurious Fates Ah where 's that pearl Percullis that adorn'd Those dainty two-leav'd Ruby gates Where be those killing eyes that so controul'd The world And locks that did infold Like knots of flaming wire like curles of burnisht gold 4 No no 't was neither Heâ—…tean spite Nor charm below nor pow'r above 'T was neither Circes spell nor Stygian sprite That thus transform'd our god of Love 'T was owl-eyed Lust more potent farre then they Whose eyes and actions hate the day Whom all the world observe whom all the world obay 5 Se how the latter Trumpets dreadfull blast Affrights stout Mars his tâ—…embling son Se how he startles how he stands agast And scrambles from his melting Throne Hark how the direfull hand of vengeance tears The swelt'ring clouds whilst Heav'n appears A ciâ—…cle fill'd with flame and center'd with his fears 6 This is that day whose oft report hath woâ—…n Neglected tongues of Prophets bare The faithlesse subject of the worldlings scorn The summe of men and Angels pray'r This this the day whose All-discerning light Ransacks the secret dens of night And severs good from bad true joyes from false delight 7 You grov'ling worldings you whose wisdome trades Where light nev'r shot his golden â—…ay That hide your actions in Cimeriâ—…n â—…des How will your eyes indure this day Hills will be deaf and mountains will not heaâ—… There be no caves no corners there To shade your souls from fire to shield your hearts from fear HUGO O the extreme loath loathsomnesse of fleshly lust which not onely â—…sseminates the mind but eneâ—…ves the body which not onely diâ—…taineth the soul but disguiseth the 〈◊〉 It is â—…hered with fury and wantonnesse it is accompanied with â—…ury and wantonnesse and it is followed with grief and râ—…ntance EPIG. 9. What sweet-fac'd Cupid has thy bastard-treasure Thy boasted honours and thy bold-fac'd pleasure Perplext thee now I told thee long ago To what they 'd bring thee fool To wit to woe X. NAHâ—…M 2. 10. She is emptie and void and waste 1 SHe 's emptie hark she sounds there 's nothing there But noyse to fill thy eare Thy vain enquiry can at length but find A blast of murm'ring wind It is a cask that seems as full as fair But merely tunn'd with aire Fond youth go build thy hopes on better grounds The soul that vainly founds Her joyes upon this world but feeds on emptie sounds 2 She 's emptie hark she sounds there 's nothing in 't The spark-ingend'ring â—…lint Shall sooner melt and hardest raunce shall first Dissolve and quench thy thirst E'r this false world shall still thy stormy breast With smooth fac'd calms of rest Thou mayst as well expect Meridian light From shades of black-mouth'd night As in this emptie world to find a full delight 3 She 's empty hark she sounds 't is void and vast What if some flatt'ring blast Of flatâ—…ous honour should perchance be there And whisper in thine earâ—… It is but wind and blows but where it list And vanishâ—…s like a mist Poore honour earth can give What gen'rous mind Would be so base to bind Her Heav'n-bred soul a slave to serve a blast of wind 4 She 's empty hark she sounds 't is but a ball For fools to play withall The painted silm but of a stronger bubble That 's lin'd with silken trouble It is a world whose work and recreation Is vanity and vexation A Hagg repair'd with vice-complexion paint A quest-house of complaint It is a saint a fiend worse fiend when most a saint 5 She 's empty hark she â—…ounds 't is vain and void What 's here to be enjoyed But grief and sicknesse and large bills of sorrow Drawn now and crost to morrow Or what are men but puffs of dying breath Reviv'd with living death Fond laâ—… O build thy hopes on surer grounds Then what dull flesh propounds Truâ—… not this hollow world she 's empty hark she sounds S. CHRYS. in Ep. ad Heb. Contemne riches and thou shalt be rich contemne glory and thou shalt be glorious contemne injuries and thou shalt be a conquerour consemne rest and thou shalt gain rest contemne earth and thou shalt find Heaven EPIG. lib. de Vanit mundi The world is a vanity which affordeth neither beauty to the amorous nor reward to the laborious nor incouragement to the industrious EPIG. 10. This house is to be let for life or years Her rent is sorrow and her In-come tears Cupid 't 'as long stood void her bills make known She must be dearly let or let alone XI MATTHEW 7. 14. Narrow is the way that leadeth unto life and few there be that find it PRepost'rous fool thou troul'st amisse Thou err'st that 's not the way 't is this Thy hopes instructed by thine eye Make thee appear more near then I My floore is not so flat so fine And has more obvious rubs then thine 'T is true my way is hard and strait And leads me through a thorny â—…ate Whose ranckling pricks are sharp and fell The common way to Heav'n 's by hell 'T is true thy path is short and fair And free of rubs Ah fool beware The safest road 's not alwayes ev'n The way to Hell 's a seeming Heav'n Think'st thou the Crown of Glory 's had With idle ease fond Cyprian lad Think'st thou that mirth and vain delights High feed and shadow-shortning nights Soft knees full bones and beds of down Are proper Prologues to a Crown Or canst thou hope to come and view Like prosperous Caesar and subdue The
neither want can pinch nor fulnesse cloy Nor double doubt afflicts â—…or baser fear Unflames your courage in pursuit draw near Shake hands with earth and let your soul respect Her joyes no further then her joyes reflect Upon her Makers glory if thou swim In wealth see him in all see all in him Sink'st thou in want and is thy small cruse spent See him in want enjoy him in conâ—…nt Conceiv'st him lodg'd in Crosse or lost in pain In Pray'r and Patience find him out again Make Heav'n thy Mistresse let no change remove Thy loyall heart be fond be sick of love What if he stop his eare or knit his brow At length he 'll be as fond as sick as thou Dart up thy soul in grones Thy secret grone Shall pierce his eare sâ—…all pierce his eare alone Dart up thy soul in vowes Thy sacred vow Shall find him out where Heav'n alone shall know Dart up thy soul in sighs Thy whisp'ring sigh Shall rouse his ears and fear no listner nigh Send up thy grones thy sighs thy closet vow There 's none there 's none shall know but Heav'n and thou Grones fresht with vowes and vowes made salt with tears Unscale his eyes and scale his conquer'd ears Shoot up the bosome shafâ—… of thy desire Feather'd with faith and double-forkt with fire And they wil hit Fear not where Heav'n bids come Heav'ns never deaf but when mans heart is dumb I. ISAIAH 29. 6. My soul hath desired thee in the night GOod God! what horrid darknesse doth surround My groping soul how are my senses bound In utter shades and mufâ—…ed from the light Lusk in the bosome of eternall night The bold-sac'd Lamp of heav'n can set and rise And with his morning glory fill the eyes Of gazing mortalls his victorious ray Can chase the shadows and restore the day Nights bashfull Empresse though she often wain As ost repents her darknesse primes again And with her circling horns doth re-embrace Her brothers wealth and orbs her silver face But ah my Sun deep swallow'd in his fall Is set and cannot shine nor rise at all My bankrupt wain can beg nor borrow light Alas my darknesse is perpetuall night Falls have their risings wainings have their primes And desp'rate sorrows wait their better times Ebs have their Floods and Autumnes have their Springs All States have changes hurried with the swings Of Chance and Time still tiding to and fro Terrestriall bodies and celestiall too How often have I vainly grop'd about With length'ned arms to find a passage out That I might catch those beams mine eye desires And bath my soul in those celestiall fires Like as the 〈◊〉 cloyster'd in her mue To scowr her downy robes and to renâ—… Her broken flags preparing t' overlook The tim'rous Mallard at the sliding brook Jeâ—… oft from perch to perch from stock to ground From ground to window thus surveying round Her dove-befeath'red Prison till at length Calling her noble birth to mind and strength Whereto her wing was born her ragged beak Nips off her dangling jesses strives to break Her gingling fetters and begins to bate At ev'ry glimpse and darts at ev'ry grate Ev'n so my weary soul that long has bin An Inmate in this Tâ—…nement of sin Lockt up by cloud-brow'd Errour which invites My cloystred thoughts to feed on black delights Now scorns her shadows and begins to dart Her wing'd desires at thee that onely art The Sun she seeks whose rising beams can fright These duskie clouds that make sâ—… dark a night Shine forth great Glory shine that I may see Both how to loath my self and honour Thee But if my weaknesse force thee to deny Thy flames yet lend the twilight of thine eye If I must want those Beams I wish yet grant That I at least may wish those Beams I want S. AUGUST Soliloqu cap. 33. There was a great and dark cloud of vanitie before mine eyes so that I could not see the Sun of Justice and the Light of Truth I being the sonne of darknesse was involved in darknesse I loved my darknesse because I knew not thy light I was blind and loved my blindnesse and did walk from darknesse to darknesse But Lord thou art my God who hast led me from darknesse and the shadow of death â—…ast called me into this glorious light and behold I see EPIG. I. My soul chear up what if the night be long Heav'n finds an eare when sinners find a tongue Thy tears are morning show'rs Heav'n bids me say When Peters cock begins to crow 't is day II. PSALM 69. 3. O Lord thou knowest my foolishnesse and my sinnes are not hid from thee SEest thou this fulsome Ideot In what measure He seems transported with the antick pleasure Of childish baubles canst thou but admire The empty fulnesse of his vain desire Canst thou conceive such poore delights as these Can fill th' insatiate soul of man or please The fond aspect of his deluded eye Reader such very fools are thou and I False puffs of honour the deceitfull streams Of wealth the idle vain and empty dreams Of pleasure are our traffick and ensnare Our souls the threefold subject of our care We toyl for trash we barter solid joyes For airy trâ—…s sell our Heav'n for toyes We snatch at barly grains whilst pearls stand by Despis'd such very fools art thou and I Aym'st thou at honour does not the Ideot shake it In his left hand fond man step forth and take it Or would'st thou wealth see how the fool presents thee With a full basket if such wealth contents thee Wouldst thou take pleasure if the fool unstride His prauncing Stallion thou mayst up and 〈◊〉 Fond man such is the pleasure wealth and honour The earth affords such fools as dote upon her Such is the game whereat â—…ths ideots sly Such ideots ah such fools are thou and I Had rebell-mans fool-hardinesse extended No further then himself and there had ended It had been just but thus enrag'd to sly Upon th' eternall eyes of Majesty And drag the Son of Glory from the breast Of his indulgent Father to aâ—… rest His great and sacred Person in disgrace To spit and spaul upon his Sun bright face To taunt him with base terms and being bound To scourge his soft his trembling sides to wound His head with thorns his heart with humane 〈◊〉 His hands with nails and his pale slank with spears And then to paddle in the pureâ—… stream Of his spilt blood is more then most extreme Great builder of mankind canst thou propound All this to thy bright eyes and not confound Thy handy-work O canst thou choose but see That mad'st the eye can ought behid from thee Thou seest our persons Lord and not our guilt Thou seest not what thou maist but what thou wilt The Hand that form'd us is enforc'd to be A Screen set up betwixt thy work and thee Look look upon that Hand and thou shalt spy An open wound a through-fare
Inflame my thoughts and fill my soul with fire That I am ravisht with a new delight But if thou shroud thy face my glory fades And I remain a Nothing all compos'd of shades 5 Eternall God O thou that onely art The sacred Fountain of eternall light And blessed Loadstone of my better part O thou my hearts desire my souls delight Reflect upon my soul and touch my heart And then my heart shall prize no good above thee And then my soul shall know thee knowing love thee And then my trembling thoughts shall never start From thy commands or swerve the least degree Or once presume to move but as they move in thee S. AUGUST Med. Cap. 25. If Man can love man with so entire affection that the one can scarce brook the others absence If a bride can be joyned to 〈◊〉 bride-groom with so great an ardency of mind that for the extremitie of love she can enjoy no rest not suffering his absence without great anxiety with what affection with what 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 the soul whom thou hast espoused by saith and compassion to love thee her true God and glorious bridegroom EPIG. 4. My soul thy love is dear 'T was thought a good And easie pen'worth of thy Saviours bloud But be not proud All matters rightly scann'd 'T was over-brought 'T was sold at second hand V. CANTICLES 5. 6. My Soul melted whilst my Beloved spake LOrd has the feeble voyce of flesh and bloud The pow'r to work thine ears into a floud Of melted mercy or the strength t' unlock The gates of Heav'n and to dissolve a rock Of marble clouds into a morning show'r Or hath the breath of whining dust the pow'r To stop or snatch a falling thunderbolt From thy fierce hand and make thy hand revolt From resolute confusion and in stead Of vyals poure full blessings on our head Or shall the wants of famisht ravens cry And move thy mercy to a quick supply Or shall the silent suits of drooping flow'rs Woo thee for drops and be refresh'd with show'rs Alas what marvel then great God what wonder If thy hell-rouzing voice that splits in sunder The brazen portals of eternall death What wonder if that life-restoring breath Which dragg'd me from th' infernall shades of night Should melt my ravisht soul with ore-delight O can my frozen gutters choose but run That feel the warmth of such a glorious Sun Me thinks his language like a flaming arrow Doth pierce my bones and melts their wounded marrow Thy flames O Cupid though the joyfull heart Feels neither tang of grief nor fears the smart Of jealous doubts but drunk with full desires Are torments weigh'd with these celestiall fires Pleasures that ravish in so high a measure That O I languish in excesse of pleasure What ravisht heart that feels these melting joyes Would not despise and loath the treach'rous toyes Of dunghill earth what soul would not be proud Of wry-mouth'd scorns the worst that flesh and bloud Had rancour to devise Who would not bear The worlds derision with a thankfull eare What palat would refuse full bowls of spight To gain a minutes tast of such delight Great spring of light in whom there is no shade But what my interposed sinnes have made Whose marrow-melting fires admit no screen But what my own rebellions put between Their precious flames and my obdurate eare Disperse these plague-distilling clouds and clear My mungy soul into a glorious day Transplant this screen remove this barre away Then then my fluent soul shall feel the fires Of thy sweet voyce and my dissolv'd desires Shall turn a sov'reigne balsame to make whole Those wounds my sinnes inflicted on thy soul S. AUGUST Soliloq cap. 34. What fire is this that so warmeth my heart What light is this that so enlightneth my soul O fire that alwayes burnest and never goest out kindle me O light which ever shinest and art never darkned illuminate me O that I had my heat from thee most holy fire How sweetly dost thou burn How secretly dost thou shine How desiderably dost thou inflame me BONAVENT Stim amoris cap. 8. It maketh God man and man God things temporall eternall mortall immortall it maketh an enemy a friend a servant a sonne 〈◊〉 things glorious cold hearts siery and hard things liquid EPIG. 5. My soul thy gold is true but full of drosse Thy Saviours breath resines thee with some losse His gentle fornace makes thee pure as true Thou must be melted ere th' art cast anew VI PSALME 73. 25. Whom have I in Heaven but thee and what desire I on earth in respect of thee 1 I Love and have some cause to love the earth She is my Makers creature therefore good She is my Mother for she gave me birth She is my tender Nurse she gives me food But what 's a Creature Lord compar'd with thee Or what 's my Mother or my Nurse to me 2 I love the Aire her dainty sweets refresh My drooping soul and to new sweets invite me Her shrill-mouth'd quire sustain me with their flesh And with their Polyphonian notes delight me But what 's the Aire or all the sweets that she Can blesse my soul withall compar'd to thee 3 I love the Sea She is my fellow-creature My carefull purveyer she provides me store She walls me round she makes my diet greater She wafts my treasure from a forrein shore But Lord of oceans when compar'd with thee What is the Ocean or her wealth to me 4 To Heav'ns high citie I direct my journey Whose spangled suburbs entertain mine eye Mine eye by contemplations great atturney Transcends the crystall pavement of the skie But what is Heav'n great God compar'd to thee Without thy presence Heav'n 's no Heav'n to me 5 Without thy presence Earth gives no refection Without thy presence Sea affords no treasure Without thy presence Air 's a rank 〈◊〉 Without thy presence Heav'n it self 's no pleasure If not possest if not enjoy'd in thee What 's Earth or Sea or Air or Heav'n to me 6 The highest Honours that the world can boast Are subjects farre too low for my desire The brightest beams of glory are at most But dying sparkles of thy living fire The proudest flames that earth can kindle be But nightly Glow-worms if compar'd to thee 7 Without thy presence wealth are bags of cares Wisdome but folly Joy disquiet sadnesse Friendship is treason and Delights are snares Pleasures but pain and Mirth but pleasing madnesse Without thee Lord things be not what they be Nor have they being when compar'd with thee 8 In having all things and not thee what have I Not having thee what have my labours got Let me enjoy but thee what farther crave I And having thee alone what have I not I wish nor Sea nor Land nor would I be Possest of Heav'n Heav'n unpossest of thee BONAVINT cap. 1. Soliloq Alas my God now I understand but blush to consesse that the beautie of thy Creatures hath
kindled in my ravisht heart What Muse shall I invoke that will inspire My lowly quill to act a loftie part What Art shall I devise t' expresse desire Too intricate to be exprest by Art Let all the nine be silent I refuse Their aid in this high task for they abuse The flames of love too much assist me Davids Muse 2 Not as the thirsty soyl desires soft show'rs To quicken and refresh her Embryon grain Nor as the drooping crests of fading flow'rs Request the bountie of a morning rain Do I desire my God these in few houres Re-wish what late their wishes did obtein But as the swift-foot Hart doth wounded flie To th' much desired streams ev'n so do I Pant after thee my God whom I must find or die 3 Before a pack of deep-mouth'd lusts I flâ—…e O they have singled out my panting heart And wanton Cupid sitting in a tree Hath pierc'd my bosome with a flaming dart My soul being spent for refuge seeks to thee But cannot find where thou my refuge art Like as the swift-foot Hart doth wounded flie To the desired stâ—…eams ev'n so do I Pant after thee my God whom I must find or die 4 At length by flight I over-went the pack Thou drew'st the wanton daâ—…t from out my wound The bloud that follow'd left a puâ—…ple track Which brought a Serpent but in â—…hape a Hound We strove he bit me but thou brak'st his back I left him grov'ling on th' envenom'd ground But as the Serpent-bitten Hart doth slie To the long-long'd for streams ev'n so did I Pant after thee my God whom I must find or die 5 If lust should chase my soul made swift by fright Thou art the stâ—…eams whereto my soul is bound Or if a jav'lin wound my sides in flight Thou art the balsame that must cure my wound If povson chance t' infest my soul in fight Thou art the treade that must make me sound Ev'n as the wounded Hart embost doth slie To th' streams extremely long'd for so do I Paâ—…t after thee my God whom I must find or die CYP. lib. 5. in Joh. cap. 10. Oprecious water which quencbeth the noysome thirst of this world that scoureth all the stains os sinners that watereth tâ—…e earth of our souls with heavenly showers and bringeth back the thirsty heart of man to his onely God! S. AUGUST Soliloq 35. O fountain of life and vein of living waters when shall I leave this forsaken impassible and dry earth and tast the waters of thy sweetnesse that I may behold thy virtue and thy glory and slake my thirst with the streams of thy mercy Lord I thirst Thou art the spring of life 〈◊〉 me I thirst Lord I thirst aste thee the living God! EPIG. 11. The arrow-smitten Hart deep wounded slies To th' springs with water in his weeping eyes Heav'n is thy spring If Satans fiery dart Pierce thy faint sides do so my wounded Heart XII PSALM 42. 2. When shall I come and appear before God WHat is my soul the better to be tin'd With holy fire what boots it to be coyn'd With Heav'ns own stamp what vantage can there be To souls of Heav'n-descended pedegree More then to beasts that grovel Are not they Fed by th' Almighties hand and ev'ry day Fill'd with his blessing too Do they not see God in his Creatures as direct as we Do they not tast thee hear thee nay what sense Is not partaker of thine Excellence What more do we Alas what serves our reason But like dark lanthorns to accomplish treason With greater closenesse It affords no light Brings thee no nearer to our purblind sight No pleasure rises up the least degree Great God but in the clearer view of thee What priv'ledge more then sense hath reason than What vantage is it to be born a man How often hath my patience built dear Lord Vain tow'rs of Hope upon thy gracious Word How often hath thy Hope reviving Grace Woo'd my suspitious eyes to seek thy face How often have I sought thee Oh how long Hath expectation taught my perfect tongue Repeated pray'rs yet pray'rs could ne'r obtain In vain I seek thee and I beg in vain If it be high presumption to behold Thy face why didst thou make mine eyes so bold To seek it If that object be too bright For mans aspect why did thy lips invite Mine eye t' expect it If it might be seen Why is this envious curtain drawn between My darkned eye and it O tell me why Thou dost command the thing thou dost deny Why dost thou give me so unpâ—…iz'd a treasure And then deny'st my greedy soul the pleasure To view thy gift Alas that gift is void And is no gift that may not be enjoy'd If those refulgent beams of Heav'ns great light Guild not the day what is the day but night The drouzie shepherd sleeps flow'rs droop and fade The birds are sullen and the beast is sad But if bright Titan dart his golden ray And with his riches glorifie the day The jolly shepherd pipes flow'rs freshly spring The beast growes gamesome and the birds they sing Thou art my Sun great God O when shall I View the full beams of thy Meridian eye Draw draw this fleshly curtain that denies The gracious presence of thy glorious eyes Or give me faith and by the eye of grace I shall behold thee though not face to face S. AUGUST in Psal. 39. Who created all things is better then all things who beauâ—…ified all things is more beautifull then all things who made strength is stronger then all things who made great things is greater then all things Whatsoever thou lovest he is that to thee Learn to love the workman in his work the Creatour in his creature Let not that which was made by him possesse thee lest thou lose him by whom thy self was made S. AUGUST Med. cap. 37. O thou most sweet most gracious most amiable most fair when shall I see thee when shall I be satisfied with thy beautie When wilt thou lead me from this dark dungeon that I may consesse thy name EP 10. 12. How art thou shaded in this veil of night Behind thy curtain slesh thou seest no light But what thy pride doth challenge as her own Thy slesh is 〈◊〉 soul take this curtain down XIII PSALM 55. 6. O that I had the wings of a Dove for then I would flie away and be at rest 1 ANd am I sworn a dunghill slave for ever To earths base drudg'ry shall I never find A night of rest shall my indentures never Be cancell'd did injurious Nature bind My soul earths prentice with no clause to leave her No day of freedome must I ever grind O that I had the pinions of a Dove That I might quit my bands and sore above And poure my just complaints before the great Jehove 2 How happy are the Doves that have the pow'r When ere they please to spread their ayry wings Or cloud-dividing Eagles that can
EMBLEMES CAMBRIDGE Printed by RD for Francis Eglesfeild and are to be sold at the signe of the Marigold in St. Pauls Church-yard 16â—◠〈◊〉 〈◊〉 Haec laus hic apex Sapientiae est ea viventem appetere quae morienti forent appetenda TO My much honoured and no lesse truly beloved Friend EDW. BENLOWES Esquire My dear Friend YOu have put the Theorboe into my hand and I have played You gave the Musician the first encouragement the Musick returneth to you for Patronage Had it been a light Ayre no doubt but it had taken the most and among them the worst But being a grave Strayn my hopes are that it will please the best and among them You. Toyish Ayres please triviall eares They kisse the fancy and betray it They cry Hail first and after Crucifie Let Dorrs delight to immerd themselves in dungwhilest Eagles scorn so poore a Game as Flies Sir you have Art and Candour Let the one judge let the other excuse Your most affectionate Friend FRA. QUARLES What heere wee see is but a graven face Onely the shaddow of yt brittle case Wherein were treasurd up those gems wch he Hath left behind him to Posterity To the Reader AN Embleme is but a silent Parable Let not the tender Eye check to see the allusion to our blessed Saviour figured in these Types In holy Scripture he is sometimes called a Sower sometimes a Fisher sometimes a Physician And why not presented so as well to the eye as to the eare Before the knowledge of letters God was known by Hieroglyphicks And indeed what are the Heavens the Earth â—…ay every Creature but Hieroglyphicks and Emblemes of His Glory I have no more to say I wish thee as much pleasure in the reading as I had in the writing Farewell Reader BY Fathers back'd by Holy Writ led on Thou shew'st a way to Heav'n by Helicon The Muses Font is consecrate by Thee And Poesie baptiz'd Divinitie Blest soul that here embark'st Thou sail'st apace 'T is hard to say mov'd more by Wit or Grace Each Muse so plyes her Oar but O the Sail Is fill'd from Heav'n with a Diviner Gale When Poets prove Divines why should not I Approve in Verse this Divine Poetry Let this suffice to licence thee the Presse I must no more nor could the Truth say lesse Sic approbavit RICH. LOVE Procan Cantabrigiensis Tot Flores QUARLES quot Paradisus habet Lectori bene-male-volo Qui legit ex Horto hoc Flores Qui carpit Utâ—rque Jure potest VIOLAS dicere jure ROSAS Non è Parnasso VIOLAM Paestive ROSETO Carpit Apollo magìs quae sit amoena ROSAM Quot Versus VIOLAS legis Quem verba loâ—â—â—â—um Credis verbà dedit Nam dedit Ille ROSAS Utque Ego non dicam haec VIOLAS suavissima Tâ—â—â— Ipse facis VIOLAS Livide si violas Nam velu◠è VIOLIS sibi sugit Araâ—ea virus Vertis ità in succos Hasque ROSASque tuos Quas violas Mùâ—as VIOLAS puto quasque recusaâ— Dente tuo rosas has reor esse ROSAS Sic rosas facis esse ROSAS dùm 〈◊〉 rodis Sic facis has VIOLAS Livide dum violas Brent Hall 1634. EDVV. BENLOVVES THE FIRST BOOK The Invocation ROwze thee my soul and drein thee from the dregs Of vulgar thoughts Skrue up the heightned pegs Of thy sublime Theorboe foure notes higher And higher yet that so the 〈◊〉 mouth'd Quire Of swift-wing'd Seraphims may come and joyn And make thy consort more than halfe divine Invoke no Muse Let heav'n be thy Apollo And let his sacred influences hallow Thy high-bred strains Let his full beams inspite Thy ravish'd brains with more heroick 〈◊〉 Snatch thee a Quill from the spread Eagles wing And like the morning Lark mount up and sing Cast off these dangling plummets that so clog Thy lab'ring heart which gropes in this dark fog Of dungeon-earth Let flesh and bloud 〈◊〉 To stop thy flight till this base world appear A thin blew Lanskip Let thy pineons sore So high a pitch that men may seem no more Than Pismires crawling on this Mole-hill earth Thy eare untroubled with their frantick mirth Let not the frailtie of thy flesh disturb Thy new-concluded peace Let Reason 〈◊〉 Thy hot-mouth'd Passion and let heav'ns fire season The fresh Conceits of thy corrected Reason Disdain to warm thee at Lusts smokie fires Scorn scorn to feed on thy old bloat desires Come come my soul hoyse up thy higher sails The wind blowes fair Shall we still creep like Snails That gild their wayes with their own native slimes No we must flie like Eâ—…gles and our Rhimes Must mount â—…o heav'n and reach th' Olympick eaâ—… Our heav'n-blown fire must seek no other Sphear Thou great Theanthropos that giv'st and ground'st Thy gifts in dust and from out dunghill crown'st Reflected Honour taking by retail What thou hast giv'n in grosse from lapsed frail And sinfull man that drink'st full draughts wherein Thy Childrens leprous fingers scurf'd with Sin Have padled cleanse O cleanse my crafty Soul From secret crimes and let my thoughts controul My thoughts O teach me stoutly to deny My self that I may be no longer I Enrich my fancie clarifie my thoughts Resine my drosse O wink at humane faults And through this slender conduit of my Quill Convey thy Current whose clear streams may fill The hearts of men with love their tongues with prayse Crown me with Glory Take who list the Bayes I. JAM 1. 14. Every man is tempted when he is drawn away by his own lust and enticed Serpent Eve Serp. NOt eat Not tast Not touch Not cast an eye Upon the fruit of this faiâ—… Tree And why Why eat'st thou not what Heav'n ordain'd for food Or canst thou think that bad which heav'n call'd Good Why was it made if not to be enjoy'd Neglect of favours makes a favour void Blessings unus'd pervert into a Wast As well as Surfets Woman Do but tast See how the laden boughs make silent suit To be enjoy'd Look how their bending fruit Meet thee half-way Observe but how they crouch To kisse thy hand Coy woman Do but touch Maâ—…k what a pure Vermilion blush has dy'd Their swelling cheeks and how for shame they hide Their palsie heads to see themselves stand by Neglected Woman Do but cast an eye What bounteous heav'n ordain'd for use refuse not Come pull and eat Y' abuse the thing ye use not Eve Wisest of Beasts our great Creatour did Reserve this Tree and this alone forbid The rest are freely ours which doubtlesse are As pleasing to the tast toth' eye as fair But touching this his strict commands are such T is death to tast no lesse than death to touch Serp. Pish death 's a fable Did not heav'n inspire Your equall Elements with living Fire Blown from the spring of life Is not that breath Immortall Come ye are as free from death As He that made ye Can the flames expire Which he has kindled
for thine eye Or if that wound be clos'd that passage be Deny'd between thy gracious eyes and me Yet view the scarre that scarre will countermand Thy wrath O read my fortune in thy hand S. CHRYS. Hom. 4. Joan. Fools seem to abound in wealth when they want all things they seem to enjoy happinesse when indeed they are onely most miserable neither do they understand that they are delâ—…ded by their fancy till they be delivered from their folly S. GREG. in Mor. By so much the more are we inwardly foolish by how much we strive to seem outwardly wise EPIG. 2. Rebellious fool what has thy folly done Controul'd thy God and crucisi'd his Sonne How sweetly has the Lord of life deceiv'd thee Thou shedst his bloud and that shed blood has sav'd thee III. PSALM 6. 2. Have mercy Lord upon me for I am weak O Lord heal me for my bones are vexed Soul Jesus Soul AH Son of David help Jes. What sinfull 〈◊〉 Implores the Son of David Soul It is I Jes. Who art thou Soul Oh a deeply wounded breast That 's heavy laden and would fain have rest Jes. I have no scraps and dogs must not be fed Like houshold children with the childrens bread Soul True Lord yet tolerate a hungry whelp To lick their crummes O Sonne of David help Jes. Poore Soul what ail'st thou Soul O I burn I fry I cannot rest I know not where to fly To find some case I turn my blubber'd facé From man to man I â—…oul from place to place T' avoid my tortures to obtein relief But still am dogg'd and haunted with my grief My midnight torments call the sluggish light And when the morning 's come they woo the night Jes. Surcease thy tears and speak thy free desires Soul Quench quench my flames and swage these scorching fires Jes. Canst thou believe my hand can cure thy grief Soul Lord I believe Lord help my unbelief Jes. Hold forth thy arm and let my fingers try Thy pulse where chiefly doth thy torment lie Soul From head to foot it reignes in ev'ry part But playes the self-law'd tyrant in my heart Jes. Canst thou digâ—…st canst relish wholesome food Haw stands thy tast Soul To nothing that is good All sinfull â—…rash and earths unsav'ry stuff I can digest and relish well enough Jes. Is not thy bloud as cold â—…s hot by turns Soul Cold to what 's good to what is bad it burns Jes. How old 's thy grief Soul I took it at the fall With eating fruit Jes. 'T is Epidenâ—…call Thy bloud 's infected and th' infection spâ—…ng From a bad liver 'T is a feaver strong And full of death unlesse with present speed A vein be op'ned thou must die or bleed Soul O I am faint and spent that launce that shall Let forth my bloud le ts forth my life withall My soul wants cordials and has greater need Of bloud then being spent so far to bleâ—…d I faint already If I bleed I die Jes. 'T is either thou-must bleed sick soul or I My bloud 's a cordiall He that sucks my veins Shall â—…se his own and conquer greater pains Then these cheer up this precious bloud of mine Shall cure thy grief my heart shall bleed for thine Believe and view me with a faithfull eye Thy soul shall neither languish bleed â—…or die S. AUGUST lib. 10. Confess Lord be mercisull unto me Ah me Behold I hide not my wounds Thou art a Phâ—…sician and I am sick Thou aâ—…t mercifull and I am miserable S. GREG. in Pastoral. O Wisdome with how sweet an aâ—…t dâ—…th thy wine and oyl vestore health to my healthlesse soul How powersully mercisull how mercifully powerfull art thoâ—… Powerfull for me mercisull to me EPIG. 3. Canst thou be sick and such a Doctour by Thou canst not live unlesse thy Doctour die Strange kind of grief that finds no med'cine good To swage her pains but the Physicians bloud IV. PSALM 25. 18. Look upon my affliction and my pain and forgive all my sinnes BOth work and strokes both lash and labour too What more could Edom or proud Ashur do Stripes after stripes and blows succeding blows Lord has thy scourge no mercy and my woes No end my pains no ease no intermission Is this the state Is this the sad condition Of those that trust thee will thy goodâ—…esse please T' allow no other favours none but these Will not the thet'rick of my torments move Are these the symptomes these the signes of love Is 't not enough enough that I â—…ulfill The toylsome task of thy laborious mill May not this labour expiate and puâ—…ge My sinne without th' addition of thy scourge Look on my cloudy brow how fast it rains Sad showers of sweat the fruits of fruitlesse pains Behold these ridges see what purple furrows Thy plow has made O think upon those sorrows That once were thine wilâ—… wilt thou not be woo'd To mercy by the charms of sweat and blood Canst thou forget that drowsie mount wherein Thy dull Disciples slept was not my sinne There punish'd in thy soul did not this brow Then sweat in thine were not those drops enow Remember Golgotha where that spring-tide O'rflow'd thy sovereigne Sacramentall side There was no sinne there was no guilt in Thee That caus'd those pains thou sweat'st thou bledst for me Was there not bloud enough when one small drop Had pow'r to ransome thousand worlds and stop The mouth of Justice Lord I bled before In thy deep wounds can Justice challenge more Or dost thou vainly labour to hedge in Thy losses from my sides my bloud is thin And thy free bountie scorns such easie thrift No no thy bloud came not as lone but gift But must I ever grind And must I earn Nothing but stripes O wilt thou disaltern The rest thou gav'st Hast thou perus'd the curse Thou laid'st on Adams fall and made it worse Canst thou repent of mercy Heav'n thought good Lost man should feed in sweat not work in bloud Why dost thou wound th' already wounded breast Ah me my life is but a pain at bâ—…st I am but dying dust my dayes a span What pleasure tak'st thou in the bloud of man Spare spare thy scourge and be not so austere Send fewer stroaks or lend more strength to bear S. BERN. Hom. 81. in Cant. Miserable man who shall deliver me 〈◊〉 the reproch of this shamefull bondage I am a miserable man but a â—…ree man â—…ce because a man miserable because a servant In regard of my bondage miserable in regard of my will inexcusable For my will that was â—…ree beslaved it self to sinne by assenting to sinne for he that committeth sinne is the servant to sinne EPIG. 4. Taxe not thy God Thine own defaults did urge This twofold punishment the mill the scourge Thy sin 's the authour of thy self tormenting Thou grind'st for sinning scourg'd for not repenting V. JOB 10. 9. Remember I beseech thee that thou hast made me as the clay
till thâ—…n and then I die contented S. AUGUST lib de Civit. Dei Cap. 10. The time wherein we live is taken from the space of our life and what remaineth is dayly made lesse and lesse in so much that the time of our life is nothing but a passage to death S. GREG. lib. 9. Cap. 44. in Cap 10. Jeb As moderate afflictions bring tears so immoderate take away tears In so much that sorrow becometh no sorrow which swallowing up the mind of the afflicted taketh away the sense of the affliction EPIG. 13. Fear'st thou to go when such an Arm invites thee Dread'st thou thy loads of sinne or what affrights thee If thou begin to fear thy fear begins Fool can he bear thee hence and not thy sins XIV DELLTERONOMY 32. 29. O that men were wise and that they understood this that they would consider their latter end Flesh Spirit â—…l WHat means my sisters eye so oft to passe Through the long entry of that Optick glasse Tell me what secret virtue doth invite Thy wrinkled eye to such unknown delight Sp. It helps the sight makes things remote appear In perfect view It draws the object near Fl. What sense-delighting objects dost thou spie What doth that Glasse present before thine eye Sp. I see thy foe my reconciled friend Grim Death even standing at the Glasses end His left hand holds a branch of Palm his right Holds forth a two-edg'd sword Fl. A proper sight And is this all doth thy Prospective please Th' abused fancy with no shapes but these Sp. Yes I behold the dark'ned Sun bereav'n Of all his light the battlements of Heav'n Swelt'ring in flames the Angel-guarded Sonne Of glory on his high Tribunal-Throne I see a Brimstone Sea of boyling fire And Fiends with knotted whips of flaming wire Tort'ring poore souls that gnash their teeth in vain And gnaw their flame-tormented tongues for pain Look sister how the queazy-stomack'd Graves Vomit their dead and how the purple waves Scalld their consumelesse bodyes strongly cursing All wombs for bearing and all paps for nursing Fl. Can thy distemper'd fancy take delight In view of tortures these are showes t' affright Look in this glasse triangular look here Here 's that will ravish eyes Sp. What seest thou there Fl. The world in colours colours that distain The checks of Proâ—…eus or the silken train Of Flora's Nymphs such various sorts of hiew As Sun-confronting â—…is never knew Here if thou please to beautifie a town Thou maist or with a hand turn't upside down Here mayst thou scant or widen by the measure Of thine own will make short or long at pleasure Here mayst thou tire thy fancy and advise With shows more apt to please more curious eyes Sp. Ah fool that dot'st on vain on present toyes And disrespect'st those true those future joyes How strongly are thy thoughts befool'd alas To dote on goods that perish with thy glasse Nay vanish with the turning of a hand Were they but painted colours it might stand With painted reason that they might devote thee But things that have no being to besot thee Foresight of future torments is the way To baulk those ills which present joyes bewray As thou hast fool'd thy self so now come hither Break that fond glasse and let 's be wise together BONAVENT de contemptu seculi O that men would be wise understand and â—…oresee Be wise to know three things The multitude of those that are to be damned the few number of those that are to be saved and the vanity of transitory things Vnderstand three things the multitude of sinnes the omission of good things and the losse of time Foresee three things the danger of death the last judgement and eternall punishment EPIG. 14. What Soul no further yet what nev'r commence Master in Faith Still batchelour of Sense Is 't insufficiency Or what has made thee Oreslip thy lost degree thy lusts have staid thee XV PSALM 30. 10. My life is spent with grief and my years with sighing WHat sullen Starre rul'd my untimely birth That would not lend my dayes one houre of mitth How oft have these bare knees been bent to gain The slender alms of one poore smile in vain How often tir'd with the fastidious light Have my saint lips implor'd the shades of night How often have my nightly torments praid For lingring twilight glutted with the shade Day worse then night night worse then day appears In fears I spend my nights my dayes in tears I moan unpittâ—…'d grone without relief There is nor end nor measure of my grief The smiling flow'r salutes the day it growes Untouch'd with care it neither spins nor sowes O that my tedious life were like this flow'r Or freed from grief or finish'd with an houre Why was I born Why was I born a man And why proportion'd by so large a span Or why suspended by the common lot And being born to dy why dy I not Ah me why is my sorrow-wasted breath Denâ—…'d the easie priviledge of death The branded slave that tugs the weary oare Obteins the Sabbath of a welcome shore His ransom'd stripes are heal'd his native soyl Sweetens the mem'ry of his forrein toyl But ah my sorrows are not half so blest My labour finds no point my pains no rest I batter sighs for tears and tears for grones Still vainly rolling Sisyphean stones Thou just Observer of our flying houres That with thy Adamantine fangs devours The brazen monuments of renowned Kings Doth thy glasse stand Or be thy moulting wings Unapt to fly If not why dost thou spare A willing breast a breast that stands so fair A dying breast that hath but onely breath To beg a wound and strength to crave a death O that the pleased Heav'ns would once dissolve These fleshly fetters that so fast involve My hamp'red soul then should my soul be blest From all these ills and wrap her thoughts in rest Till then my dayes are months my months are years My years are ages to be spent in tears My grief 's entail'd upon my wastfull breath Which no recov'ry can cut off but death Breath drawn in cottages puft out in thrones Begins continues and concludes in grones INNOCENT de vilitate condit humanae O who will give mine eyes a fountain of tears that I may bewail the miserable ingresse of mans condition the sinfull pregresse of mans conversation the damnable egresse in mans dissolution I will consider with tears whereof man was made what man doth and what man is to do Alas he is formed of earth conceived in sinne born to punishment He doth evil things which are not lawfull He doth â—…ilthy things which are not decent He doth vain things which are not â—…pedient EPIG. 15. My heart Thy life 's a debt by Bond which bears Asecret date the use is Grones and Tears Plead not usurious Nature will have all As well the Int'rest as the Principall THE FOURTH BOOK I. ROMANES 7. 23. I see another Law in my
members warring against the Law of my mind and bringing me into captivitie to the Law of sinne 1 O How my will is hurried to and fro And how my unresolv'd resolves do vary I know not where to fix sometimes I go ' This way then that and then the quite contrary I like dislike lament for what I could not I do undo yet still do what I should not And at the self same instant will the thing I would not 2 Thus are my weather-beaten thoughts opprest With th' earth-bred winds of my prodigious will Thus am I hourely tost from East to West Upon the rowling streams of good and ill Thus am I driven upon these slipp'ry suds From reall ills to false apparent goods My life 's a troubled sea compos'd of Ebs and Flouds 3 The curious Penman having tâ—…imm'd his page With the dead language of his dabbled quill Le ts fall a heedlesse drop then in a rage Cashiers the fruits of his unlucky skill Ev'n so my pregnant soul in th' insant bud Of her best thoughts showâ—…s down a cole-black flood Of unadvised ills and cancels all her good 4 Sometimes a sudden flash of sacred heat Warms my chill soul and seâ—…s my thoughts in frame But soon â—…hat fire is shouldred from her seat By lustfull Cupids much inferiour flame I feel two flames and yet no flame entire Thus are the mungrill thoughts of mixt desire Consum'd between that heav'nly and this earthly fire 5 Sometimes my trash-disdaining thoughts out-passe The common period of terrene conceit O then me thinks I scorn the thing I was Whilst I stand ravisht at my new estate But when th' Icarian wings of my desire Feel but the warmth of their own native sire O then they melt and plunge within their wonted mire 6 I know the nature of my wav'ring mind I know the frailty of my fleshly will My Passion 's Eagle-ey'd my judgement blind I know what 's good but yet make choice of ill When th' Ostrich wings of my desires shall be So dull they cannot mount the least degree Yet grant my soul desire but of desiring thee S. BERN. Med. 9. My heart is a vain heart a vagabond and instable heart while it is led by its own judgement and wanting Divine counsel cannot subsist in it self and whilest it divers wayes seeketh rest findeth none but remaineth miserable through labour and void of peace It agreeth not with it self it dissenteth from it self it altereth resolutions changeth the judgement frameth new thoughts pulleth down the old and buildeth them up again It willeth and willeth not and never remaineth in the same state S. AUGUST de verb Apost. When it would it cannot because when it might it would not Therefore by an evil will man lost his good power EPIG. 1. My soul how are thy thoughts disturb'd confin'd Enlarg'd betwixt thy members and thy mind Fix here or there thy doubt-depending cause Can nev'r expect one verdict 'twixt two Laws II. PSALM 119. 5. O that my wayes were directed to keep thy Statutes 1 THus I the object of the worlds disdain With Pilgrime-pace surround the weary earth I onely relish what the world counts vain Her mirth 's my grief her sullen grief my mirth Her light my darknesse and her truth my errour Her freedom is my jail and her delight my terrour 2 Fond earth proportion not my seeming love To my long stay let not thy thoughts deceive thee Thou art my prison and my home 's above My life 's a preparation but to leave thee Like one that seeks a doore I walk about thee With thee I cannot live I cannot live without thee 3 The world 's a lab'rinth whose anfractuous wayes Are all compos'd of rubs and crook'd meanders No resting here He 's hurried back that stayes A thought and he that goes unguided wanders Her way is dark her path untrod unev'n So hard 's the way from earth so hard 's the way to Heav'n 4 This gvring lab'rinth is betrench'd about On either hand with streams of sulph'rous fire Streams closely sliding erring in and out But seeming pleasant to the fond descrier Where if his footsteps trust their own invention He falls without redresse and sinks beyond dimension 5 Where shall I seek a Guide where shall I meet Some lucky hand to lead my trembling paces What trusty Lantern will direct my feet To scape the danger of these dang'rous places What hopes have I to passe without a Guide Where one gets safely through a thousand fall beside 6 An unrequested Starre did gently slide Before the Wisemen to a greater Light Back-sliding Isr'el found a double Guide A Pillar and a Cloud by day by night Yet in my desp'rate dangers which be farre More great then theirs I have nor Pillar Cloud nor Starre 7 O that the pineons of a clipping Dove Would cut my passage through the empty Aire Mine eyes being seeld how would I mount above The reach of danger and forgotten care My backward eyes should nev'r commit that fault Whose lasting guilt should build a Monument of Salt 8 Great God that art the flowing Spring of Light Enrich mine eyes with thy refulgent Ray Thou art my Path direct my steps aright I have no other Light no other Way I 'll trust my God and him alone pursue His Law shall be my Path his Heav'nly Light my Clue S. AUGUST Soliloqu cap. 4. O Lord who art the Light the Way the Truth the Life in whom there is no darknesse errour vanitie nor death The Light without which there is darknesse The Way without which there is wandering The Truth without which there is errour The Life without which there is death Say Lord Let there be Light and I shall see Light and eschew darknesse I shall see the Way and avoid wandering I shall sâ—…e the Truth and shun errour I shall see Life and escape death Illuminate O illuminate my blind soul which â—…itteth in darknesse and the shâ—…dow of death and direct my feet in the way of peace EPIG. 2. Pilgrime trudge on What makes thy soul complain Crownes thy complaint The way to rest is pain The road to resolution lies by doubt The next way home 's the farthest way about III. PSALM 17. 5. Stay my steps in thy paths that my feet do not slide 1 WHen ere the old Exchange of profit rings Her silver Saints-bell of uncertain gains My merchant soul can stretch both legs and wings How I can run and take unwearied pains The charms of profit are so strong that I Who wanted legs to go find wings to fly 2 〈◊〉 time-beguiling Pleasure but advance Her lustfull trump and blow her bold alarms O how my sportfull â—…oul can frisk and dance And hug that Syren in her twined arms The sprightly voyce of sinew-strengthning pleasure Can lend my bedrid soul both legs and leasure 3 If blazing Honour chance to fill my veins With flatt'ring warmth and flash of Courtly fire My soul can take a pleasure in her pains My
lofty strutting steps disdain to tire My antick knees can turn upon the hinges Of Complement and skâ—…ue a thousand cringes 4 â—…ut when I come to Thee my God that art The royall Myne of everlasting treasure The reall Honour of my better part And living Fountain of eternall pleasure How nervelesse are my limbs how faint and flow I have nor wings to fly nor legs to go 5 So when the streams of swift-foot Rhene convay Her upland riches to the Belgick shore The idle vessel slides the wat'ry lay Without the blast or tug of wind or oare Her slipp'ry keel divides the silver fome With ease so facil is the way from home 6 But when the home-bound vessel turns her sails Against the breast of the resisting stream O then she slugs nor sail nor oare prevails The Stream is sturdy and her Tides extreme Each stroke is losse and ev'ry tug is vain A Boat-lengths purchase is a League of pain 7 Great All in All that art my rest my home My way is tedious and my steps are slow Reach forth thy helpfull hand or bid me come I am thy child O teach thy child to go Conjoyn thy sweet commands to my desire And I will venture though I fall or tire S. AUGUST Ser. 15. de Verb. Apost. Be alwayes displeased at what thou art if thou desirest to attain to what thou art not For where thou hast pleased thy self there thou abidest But if thou sayest I have enough thou perishest Alwayes adde alwayes walk alwayes proceed neither stand still nor go back nor deviate He that standeth still proceedeth not He goeth back that continueth not He deviateth that revolteth He goeth better that creepeth in 〈◊〉 way then he that runneth out of his way EPIG. 3. Fear not my Soul to lose for want of cunning Weep not Heav'n is not alwayes got by running Thy thoughts are swist although thy legs be slow True love will creep not having strength to go IV. PSALM 119. 120. My flesh trembleth for fear of thee and I am afraid of thy judgements LEt others boast of luck and go their wayes With their fair game know vengeance seldome playeâ—… To be too forward but doth wisely frame Her backward Tables for an after-game She gives thee leave to venture many a blot And for her own advantage hits thee not But when her pointed Tables are made fair That she be ready for thee then beware Then if a necessary blot be set She hits thee wins the game perchance the set If prosp'rous chances make thy casting high Be wisely temp'rate cast a serious eye On after dangers and keep back thy game Too forward seed-times make thy harvest lame If left-hand Fortune give thee left-hand chances Be wisely patient let no envious glances Repine to view thy gamesters heap so fair The hindmost Hound takes oft the doubling Hare The worlds great Dice are false sometimes they go Extremely high sometimes extremely low Of all her gamesters he that playes the least Lives most at ease playes most secure and best The way to win is to play fair and swear Thy self a servant to the Crown of fear Fear is the Primmer of a Gamesters skill Who fears not Bad stâ—…nds most unarm'd to Ill The Ill that 's wisely fear'd is half withstood And fear of Bad is the best foyl to Good True Fear 's th' Elixar which in dayes of old Turn'd leaden Crosses into Crowns of Gold The World 's the Tables Stakes Eternall life The Gamesters Heav'n and I Unequall strife My Fortunes are my Dice whereby I frame My indisposed Life this Life 's the Game My sinnes are sev'rall Blots the Lookers on Are Angels and in death the Game is done Lord I 'm a Bungler and my Game doth grow Still more and more unshap'd my Dice run low The Stakes are great my carâ—…lesse Blots are many And yet thou passest by and hitst not any Thou art too strong and I have none to guide me With the least jog the lookers on deride me It is a Conquest undeserving Thee To win a Stake from such a Worm as me I have no more to lose If we persever 'T is lost and that once lost I m lost for ever Lord wink at faults and be noâ—… too severe And I will play my Game with greater fear O give me Fear ere Fear has past her date Whose blot being hit then fears fears then too late S. BERN. Ser. 54. in Cant. There is nothing so eâ—…ectuall to obtain Grace to retain Grace and to regain Grace as alwayes to be sound before God nâ—…t over-wise but to â—…ear Happy art thou if thy heart be replenished with three â—…ears a sear for received Grace a gâ—…eater fear for lost Grace a greatest â—…ear to recover Grace S. AUGUST super Psalm Present fear begetteth Eternall securitie Fear God which 〈◊〉 above all and no need to fear man at all EPIG. 4. Lord shall we grumble when thy flames do seourge us Our sinnes breathe fire that fire returns to purge us Lord what an Alchymist art thou whose skill Transmutes to perfect Good from peâ—…fect ill V. PSALM 119. 37. Turn away mine eyes from regarding vanitie 1 HOw like to threds of flax That touch the flame are my inflam'd desires How like to yielding wax My soul dissolves before these wanton â—…ires The fire but touch'd the flame but felt Like flax I burn like wax I melt 2 O how this flesh doth draw My fetter'd soul to that deceitfull â—…ire And how th' eternall Law Is baffled by the law of my desire How truly bad how seeming good Are all the laws of flesh and bloud 3 O wretched state of men The height of whose ambition is to borrow What must be paid agen With griping int'rest of the next dayes sorrow How wild his thoughts How apt to range How apt to vary Apt to change 4 How intricate and nice Is mans perplexed way to mans desire Sometimes upon the ice He slips and sometimes falls into the â—…ire His progresse is extreme and bold Or very hot or very cold 5 The common food he doth Sustain his soul-tormenting thoughts withall Is honey in his mouth To night and in his heart to morrow gall 'T is oftentimes within an houre Both very sweet and very sowre 6 If sweet Corinna smile A Heav'n of joy breaks down into his heart Corinna frowns awhile Hels torments are but copies of his smart Within a lustfull heart doth dwell A seeming Heav'n a very Hell 7 Thus worthlesse vain and void Of comfort are the fruits of earths imployment Which ere they be enjoy'd Distract us and dâ—…stroy us in th' enjoyment These be the pleasures that are priz'd When Heav'ns cheap pen'worth stands despis'd 8 Lord quench these hasty flashes Which dart as lightning from the thund'ring skies And ev'ry minute dashes Against the wanton windows of mine eyes Lord close the casement whilst I stand Behind the curtain of thy hand S. AUGUST Soliloqu cap. 4. O thou Sun that illuminatest both
Heaven and Earth Wo be unto those eyes which do not behold thee Wo be unto these blind eyes which cannot behold thee Wo be unto those which turn away their eyes that they will not behold thee Wo be unto those that turn away their eyes that they may behold vanity S. CHRYS. sup Matth. 19. What is an evil woman but the enemy of friendship an unavoidable pain a necessary mischief a naturall tentation a desiderable calamity a domestick danger a delectable inconvenience and the nature of evil painted over with the colour of good EPIG. 5. 'T is vain great God to close mine eyes from ill When I resolve to keep the old man still My rambling heart must cov'nant first with thee Or none can passe betwixt mine eyes and me VI ESTHER 7. 3. If I have found favour in thy sight and if it please the King let my life be given me at my petition THou art the great Assuerus whose command Doth stretch from Pole to Pole the world 's thy land Rebellious Vashti's the corrupted will Which being call'd refuses to fulfill Thy just command Esther whose tears condole The razed City 's the regen'rate Soul A captive maid whom thou wilt please to grace With nuptiall Honour in stout Vashti's place Her kinsman whose unbended knee did thwart Proud Hanans glory is the fleshly part The sober Eunuch that recall'd to mind The new-built gibbet Haman had divin'd For his own ruine fiftie cubits high Is lustfull-thought-controlling chastity Insulting Haman is that fleshly lust Whose red-hot fury for a season must Triumph in pride and study how to tread On Mordecay till royall Esther plead Great King my sent-for Vashti will not come O let the oyl o' th blessed Virgins womb Cleanse my poore Esther look O look upon her With gracious eyes and let thy Beams of honour So scoure her captive stains that she may prove A holy Object of thy Heav'nly love Annoint her with the Spiknard of thy graces Then try the sweetnesse of her chast embraces Make her the partner of thy nuptiall bed And set thy royall Crown upon her head If then ambitious Haman chance to spend His spleen on Mordecay that scorns to bend The wilfull stiffnesse of his stubborn knee Or basely crouch to any Lord but thee If weeping Esther should prefâ—…rre a grone Before the high tribunal of thy Throne Hold forth thy golden Sceptre and aâ—…ord The gentle audience of a graâ—…ious Lord And let thy royall Esther be possest Of half thy Kingdome at her dear request Curb lustfull Haman him that would disgrace Nay ravish thy fair Queen before thy face And as proud Haman was himself ensnar'd On that self gibbet that himself prepar'd So nail my lust both puniâ—…hment and guilt On that dear crosse that mine own lusts have builâ—… S. AUGUST in Ep. O Holy Spirit alwayes inspire me with holy works Constrain â—…e that I may do Counsel me that I may love thee Confirm â—…e that I may hold thee Conserve me that I may noâ—… lose thee S AUGUST sup Joan. The Spirit rusts where the flesh resteth For as the flesh is 〈◊〉 with sweet things the Spirit is refreshed with sowâ—…e Ibidem Wouldest thou that thy flesh obey thy spirit Then let thy spirit obey thy God Thou must be governed that thou maist govern EPIG. 6. Of Mercy and Justice is thy Kingdome built This plagues my sin and that removes my guilt When ere I sue Assuerus like decline Thy Scepâ—…re Lord say Half my Kingdome 's thine VII CANTICLES 7. II. Come my beloved let us go forth into the fields and let us remain in the villages 1 Christ Soul Câ—…r COme come my dear and let us both retire And whiff the dainties of the fragrant fields Where warbling Phil'mel and the shrill-mouth'd quire Chaunt forth their raptures where the Turtle builds Her lonely nest and where the new-born bryer Breaths forth the sweetnesse that her Aprill yields Come come my lovely fair and let us trie These rurall delicates where thou and I May melt in private â—…ames and fear no stander by 2 Soul My hearts eternall joy in lieu of whom The earth 's a blast and all the world a bubble Our Citie-mansion is the fairer home But Countrey-sweets are tang'd with lesser trouble Let 's try them both and chuse the better come A change in pleasure makes the pleasure double One thy commands depends my go or tarrie I 'll stirre with Martha or I 'll stay with Mary Our hearts are firmly fixt although our pleasures varie 3 Chr. Our Countrey mansion situate on high With various Objects still renews delight Her arched roof 's of unstain'd Ivory Her wall 's of fieâ—…y-sparkling Chrysolite Her pavement is of hardest Prophety Her spacious windows are all glaz'd with bright And fluming Carbuncles no need require Titans faint â—…ayes or Vulcans feebler fire And ev'ry Gate 's a Pearl and ev'ry Pearl entire 4 Soul Fool that I was how were my thoughts deceiv'd How falsly was my fond conceit possest I took it for an Hermitage but pav'd And daub'd with neighb'ring dirt and thacht at best Alas I nev'r expected more nor crav'd A Turtle hop'd but for a Turtles nest Come come my dear and let no idle stay Neglect th' advantage of the head-strong day How pleasure grates that feâ—…ls the curb of dull delay 5 Chr. Come then my Joy let our divided paces Conduct us to our fairest territory O there we 'll twine our souls in sweet embraces Soul And in thine aâ—…ms I 'll tell my passion story Chr. O there I 'll crown thy heaâ—… with all my graces Soul And all those graces shall râ—…flect thy glory Chr. O there I 'll feed thee with celestiall Manna I 'll be thy Hanna Soul And I thy Elkanah Chr. I 'll found my trump of joy So. And I 'll resound Hosanna S. BERN. O blessed Contemplation The death of vices and the life of virtues Thee the Law and Prophets admire who ever atteiâ—…ed perfection if not by thee O blessed Solitude the Magazine of celestiall treasure by thee things earthly and transitory are changed into Heavenly and Eternall S. BERN. in Ep. Happy is that house and blessed is that Congregation where Martha still complaineth of Mary EPIG. 7. Mechanick soul thou must not onely do With Martha but with Mary ponder too Happy 's that house where these fair sisters vary But most when Martha's reconcil'd to Mary VIII CANTICLES 1. 3. Draw me we will follow after thee by the savour of thy Ointments THus like a lump of the corrupted Masse I lie secure long lost before I was And like a block beneath whose burden lies That undiscover'd woâ—…m that never dies I have no will to rouze I have no power to rise Can stinking Lazarus compound or strive With deaths entangling fetters and revive Or can the water buried Axe implore A hand to raise it or it self restore And from her sandy deeps approch the dry-foot shore So hard 's the task for
not heare O is thy wonted love become so cold Or do mine eyes not seek thee where they should Why do I seek thee if thou art not here Or find thee not if thou art ev'ry where I see my errour 'T is not strange I could not Find out my love I sought him where I should not Thou art not found in downy beds of ease Alas thy musick strikes on harder keyes Nor art thou found by that false feeble light Of Natures candle Our Aegyptian night Is more then common darknesse nor can we Expect a morning but what breaks from thee Well may my empty bed bewail thy losse When thou art lodg'd upon thy shamefull crosse If thou refuse to share a bed with me We 'll never part I 'll share a crosse with thee ANSELM in Protolog cap. 1. Lord if thou art not present where shall I seek thee absent If every where why do I not see thee present Thou dwellest it light inaccessible and where is that inaccessible light Or 〈◊〉 shall I have accesse to light inaccessible I beseech thee Lord teach me to seek thee and shew thy self to the seeker because I can neither seek thee unlesse thou teach me not find tâ—…e unlesse thou shew thy self to me Let me seek thee in deâ—… thee and desire thee in seeking thee Let me find thee it loving thee and love thee in finding thee EPIG. 10. Where shouldst thou seek for rest but in thy bed But now thy rest is gone thy rest is fled 'T is vain to seek him there My soul be wise Go ask thy sinnes they 'll tell thee where he lies XI CANTICLES 3. 2. I will rise and go about in the City and will seek him that my soul loveth I sought him but I found him not 1 O How my disappointed soul 's perplext How restlesse thoughts swarm in my troubled breast How vainly pleas'd with hopes then crossely vext With fears and how betwixt them both distrest What place is left unransack'd Oh where next Shall I go seek the Authour of my rest Of what blest Angel shall my lips enquire The undiscover'd way to that entire And everlasting solace of my hearts desire 2 Look how the stricken Hart that wounded flies Ov'r hills and dales and seeks the lower grounds For running streams the whilst his weeping eyes Peg silent mercy from the following Hounds At length embost he droops drops down and lies Beneath the burden of his bleeding wounds Ev'n so my gasping foul dissolv'd in tears Doth search for thee my God whose deafned ears Leave me th' unransom'd Prisner to my panick fears 3 Where have my busie eyes not pry'd O where Of whom hath not my thred-bare tongue demanded I search'd this glorious City he 's not here I sought the Countrey she stands empty handed I search'd the Court he is a stranger there I ask'd the land he 's shipp'd the sea he 's landed I climb'd the air my thoughts began t' aspire But ah the wings of my too bold desire Soaring too near the Sunne were sing'd with sacred fire 4 I mov'd the Merchants eare alas but he Knew neither what I said nor what to say I ask'd 〈◊〉 Lawyer he demands a fee And theâ—… demurrs me with a vain delay I ask'd the Schoolman his advice was free But scor'd me out too intricate a way I ask'd the Watch-man best of all the soure Whose gentle answer could resolve no more But that he lately left him at the Temple doore 5 Thus having sought and made my great inquest In evâ—…y place and search'd in ev'ry ear I threw me on my bed but ah my rest Was poyson'd with th' extremes of grief and fear Where looking down into my troubled breast The Magazine of wounds I found him there Let othâ—…rs hunt and shew their sportfull Art I wiâ—…h to catch the â—…are before she start As Potchers use to do Heav'ns form 's a troubled heart S. AMBROS. lib. 3. de Virg. Christ is not in the market not in the streets For Christ is Peace in the market are strife Christ is Justice in the 〈◊〉 is iniquitie Christ is a Labourer in the market 〈◊〉 Christ is Charity in the market is slander Christ is Charity in the market is fraud Let us not therefore seek 〈◊〉 where we cannot find Christ S. HIERON. Ep. 22. ad Eustoch. Jesus is jealous He will not have thy face seen Let foolish 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 abroad seek thou thy Love at home EPIG. 11. What lost thy love will neither bed nor board Receive him Not by tears to be implor'd It is the Ship that moves and not the Coast I fear I fear my soul 't is thou art lost XII CANTICLES 3. 3. Have you seen him whom my soul loveth When I had past a little from them then I sound him I took hold on him left him not 1 WHat secret corner what unwonted way Has scap'd the ransack of my rambling thought The Fox by night nor the dull Owl by day Have never search'd those places I have sought Whilst thy lamented absence taught my breast The ready road to grief without request My day had neither comfort nor my night had rest 2 How hath my unregarded language vented The sad tautologies of lavish passion How often have I languish'd unlamented How oft have I complain'd without compassion I ask't the Citie-watch but some deny'd me The common street whilst others would misguide me Some would debar me some divert me some deride me 3 Mark how the widow'd Turtle having lost The faithfull partner of her loyall heart Stretches â—…er feeble wings from coast to câ—…ast Haunts ev'ry path thinks ev'ry shade doth paâ—…t Her absent Love and her at length uâ—…sped She re-betakes her to her lonely bed And there bewails her everlasting widow-head 4 So when my soul had progrest ev'ry place That love and dear affection could contrive I threw me on my couch resolv'd t' embrace A death for him in whom I ceas'd to live But there injurious Hymen did present His lanskip joyes my pickled eyes did vent Full streams of briny tears tears never to be spent 5 Whilst thus my sorrow-wasting soul was seeding Upon the rad'cal humour of her thought Ev'n whilst mine eyes were blind and heart was bleeding He that was sought unfound was found unsought As if the Sun should dart his orbe of light Into the secrets of the black-brow'd night Ev'n so appear'd my Love my sole my souls delight 6 O how mine eyes now ravish'd at the sight Of my bright Sun shot flames of equall fire Ah! how my soul dissolv'd with ov'r-delight To re-enjoy the Crown of chast desire How sov'reigne joy depos'd and dispossest Rebellious grief And how my ravish'd breast But who can presle those heights that cannot be exprest 7 O how these arms these greedy arms did twine And strongly twist about his yielding wast The sâ—…ppy branches of the Thespian Vine Nev'r cling'd their lesse beloved Elm so fast Boast not thy flames blind boy nor feather'd shot
deceived mine eyes and I have not observed that thou art more amiable then all thy creatures to which thou hast communicated but one drop of thy inestimable beautie For who hath adorned the Heavens with starres Who hath stored the air with sowl the waters with fish the earth with plants and flowers But what are all these but a small spark of Divine beauty S. CHRYS. Hom. 5. in Ep. ad Rom. In having nothing I have all things because I have Christ Having 〈◊〉 all things in him I seek no other reward for he is the universall reward EPIG. 6. Who would not throw his better thoughts about him And scorn this drosse within him that without him Cast up my soul thy clearer eye Behold If thou be fully melted there 's the mold VII 〈◊〉 120. 5. Wo is to me that I remain in Meshech and dwell in the tents of Kedar IS Natures course dissolv'd doth Times glasse stand Or hath some frolick heart set back the hand Of Fates perpetuall Clock will't never strike Is crazy Time grown lazy faint or sick With very Age or hath that great Pairroyall Of Adamantine sisters late made triall Of some new trade shall mortall hearts grow old In sorrow snail my weary arms infold And underprop my panting sides for ever Is there no charitable hand will sever My well-spun thred that my imprison'd soul May be deliver'd from this dull dark hole Of dungeon flesh O shall I shall I never Be ransom'd but remain a slave for ever It is the lot of man but once to die But ere that death how many deaths have I What humane madnesse makes the world affraid To entertein Heav'ns joy because convey'd By th' hand of death will nakednesse refuse Rich change of robes because the man 's not spruse That brought them or will povertie send back Full bags of gold because the bringer 's black Life is a bubble blown with whining breaths Fill'd with the torments of a thousand deaths Which being prickt by death while death deprives One life presents the soul a thousand lives O frantick mortall how hath earth bewitch'd Thy Bedlam soul which hath so fondly pitch'd Upon her false delights Delights that cease Before enjoyment finds a time to please Her fickle joyes breed doubtfull fears her fears Bring hopefull griefs her griefs weep fearfull tears Tears coyn deceitfull hopes hopes carefull doubt And surly passion justles passion out To day we pamper with a full repast Of lavish mirth at night we weep as fast To night we swim in wealth and lend to morrow We sink in want and find no friend to borrow In what a climate doth my soul reside Where pale-fac'd murder the first-born of pride Sets up her kingdome in the very smiles And plighted faiths of men-like Crocodiles A land where each embroyd'red sattin word Is lin'd with fraud where Mars his law lesse sword Exiles 〈◊〉 balance where that hand Now slayes his brother that new-sow'd his land O that my dayes of bondage would expire In this lewd soyl Lord how my soul 's on fire To be dissolv'd that I might once obtain These long'd for joyes long'd for so oft in vain If Moses-like I may not live possest Of this fair land Lord let me see 't at least S. AUGUST 〈◊〉 cap. 12. My life is a frail life a corruptible life a life which the more it increaseth the more it decreaseth The farther it goeth the nearer it cometh to death A deceitfull life and like a shadow full of the snares of death Now I rejoyce now I languish now I flourish now infirm now I live and straight I die now I seem happy alwayes miserable 〈◊〉 I laugh now I weep Thus all things are subject to mutabilitie that nothing continueth an 〈◊〉 in one state O joy above joy exceeding all joy without which there is no joy when shall I enter into thee that I may see my God that dwelleth in thee EPIG. 7. Art thou so weak O canst thou not digest An houre of travel for a night of rest Chear up my soul call home thy spirits and bear One bad good-friday full-mouth'd Easter's near VIII ROMANES 7. 24. O wretched man that I am who shall deliver me from the body of this death BEhold thy darling which thy lustfull care Pampers for which thy restlesse thoughts prepare Such 〈◊〉 cates for whom thy bubbling brow So often sweats and bankrupt eyes do ow Such midnight scores to nature for whose sake Base earth is sainted the infernall lake Unfeard the Crown of glory poorely rated Thy God neglected and thy brother hated Behold thy darling whom thy soul affects So dearly whom thy fond indulgence decks And puppets up in soft in silken weeds Behold thy darling whom thy fondnesse feeds With farre-fetcht delicates the dear-bought gains Of ill-spent time the price of half thy pains Behold thy darling who when clad by thee Derides thy nakednesse and when most free Proclaims her lover slave and being fed Most full then strikes th' indulgent feeder dead What meanst thou thus my poore deluded soul To love so fondly Can the burning cole Of thy affection last without the fuel Of counter-love Is thy compeer so cruel And thou so kind to love unlov'd again Canst thou sow favours and thus reap disdain Remember O remember thou art born Of royall bloud remember thou art sworn A Maid of Honour in the Court of Heaven Remember what a costly price was given To ransome thee from slav'ry thou wert in And wilt thou now my soul turn slave again The Son and Heir to Heav'ns Triune JEHOVE Would fain become a 〈◊〉 for thy love And offers for thy dow'r his Fathers Throne To sit for Seraphims to gaze upon He 'll give thee Honour Pleasure Wealth and Things Transcending farre the Majesty of Kings And wilt thou prostrate to the odious charms Of this base scullion shall his hollow arms Hugg thy soft sides shall these course hands untie The sacred Zone of thy virginitie For shame degen'rous soul let thy desire Be quickned up with more heroick fire Be wisely proud let thy ambitious eye Reade nobler objects let thy thoughts desie Such am'rous basenesse let thy soul disdain Th' ignoble profers of so base a swain Or if thy vowes be past and Hymens bands Have ceremonied your unequall hands Annull at least avoid thy lawlesse act With insufficiencie or a precontract Or if the act be good yet maist thou plead A second freedome for the flesh is dead NAZIANZ Orat. 16. How I am joyned to this body I know not which when it is healthfull provoketh me to warre and being dammaged by warre affecteth me with grief which I both love as a fellow-servant and bate as an utter enemy It is a pleasant foe and a perfidious friend O strange conjunction and alienation what I fear I embrace and what I love I am affraid of before I make warre I am reconciled before I enjoy peace I am at variance EPIG. 8. What need that house be
as this Look full upon me for my soul 〈◊〉 To turn a holy 〈◊〉 in those fires O leave me not nor turn thy beauty from me Look look upon me though thy flames ov'rcome me If thou becloud the Sun-shine of thine eye I freez to death and if it shine I frie Which like a fever that my soul hath got Makes me to burn too cold or freez too hot Alas I cannot bear so sweet a smart Nor canst thou be lesse glorious thâ—…n thou art Hast then and let thy winged steps out-go The frighted Ro-buck and his flying Ro. But go not farre beyond the reach of breath Too large a distance makes another death My youth is in her Spring Autumnall vowes Will make me riper for so sweet a Spouse When after-times have burnish'd my desire I 'll shoot thee flames for flames and fire for fire O leave me not nor turn thy beautie from me Look look upon me though thy flames ov'rcome me Autor scalae Paradisi Tom. 9. Aug. cap. 8. Fear not O Bride nor despair think not thy self contemâ—…ed if thy Bridegroom withdraw his face a while All things cooperate for the best both from his absence and his presence thou gainest light He cometh to thee and he goeth from thee he cometh to make thee consolate he goeth to make thee cautions lest thy abundant consolation puss thee up he cometh that thy languishing soul may be comforted he goeth lest his familiaritie should be contemned and being absent to be more desired and being desired to be more earnestly sought and being long sought to be more acceptably sound EPIG. 15. My soul sinnes monster whom with greater ease Ten thousand fold thy God could make then please What wouldst thou have nor pleas'd with sun nor shade Heav'n knowes not what to make of what he made THE FAREWELL REVâ—…LATION 2. 10. Be thou faithfull unto death and I will give thee the crown of life 1 BE faithfull Lord what 's that Believe 't is easie to believe but what That he whom thy hard heart hath wounded And whom thy scorn hath spit upon Hath paid thy sine and hath compounded For those foul deeds thy hands have done Believe that he whose gentle palms Thy needle-pointed sinnes have naild Hath born thy slavish load of alms And made supply where thou hast faild Did ever mis'ry find so strange relief It is a love too strong for mans belief 2 Believe that he whose side Thy crimes have pierc'd with their rebellions di'd To save thy guilty soul from dying Ten thousand horrid deaths from whence There was no scape there was no slying But through his dearest blouds expence Believe this dying friend requires No other thanks for all his pain But ev'n the truth of weak desires And for his love but love again Did ever mis'ry find so true a friend It is a love too vast to comprehend 3 With flouds of tears baptize And drench these dry these unregen rate eyes Lord whet my dull my blunt belief And break this fleshly rock in sunder That from this heart this hell of grief May spring a Heav'n of love and wonder O if thy mercies will remove And melt this lead from my belief My grief will then resine my love My love will then refresh my grief Then weep mine eyes as he hath bled vouchsafe To drop for every drop an Epitaph 4 But is the crown of Glory The wages of a lamentable story Or can so great a purchase rise From a salt humour can mine eye Run fast enought ' obtain this prize If so Lord who 's so mad to die Thy tears are trifles thou must do Alas I cannot then endeavour I will but will a tug or two Suffice the turn thou must persever I 'll strive till death and shall my feeble strife Be crown'd I 'll crown it with a crown of life 5 But is there such a dearth That thou must buy what is thy due by birth He whom thy hands did form of dust And gave him breath upon condition To love his great Creatour must He now be thine by composition Art thou a gracious God and mild Or head-strong man rebellious rather O man 's a base rebellious child And thou a very gracious Father The gift is thine we strive thou crown'st our strife Thou giv'st us Faith and Faith a crown of life FINIS