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
in the western deep And fresh their tired soulâ—…s with strength-restoring sleep 3 But these prodigious hackneyes basely got 'Twixt men and devils made for race nor flight Can drag the idle world expecting not The bed of rest but travel with delight Who neither weighing way nor weather trot Through dust and dirt and droyl both night and day Thus droyl these fiends incarnate whose free pains Are fed with dropsies and venerial blains No need to use the whip but strength to rule the rains 4 Poore captive world How has thy lightnesse given A just occasion to thy foes illusion O how art thou betray'd thus fairly driven In seeming triumph to thy own confusion How is thy empty universe bereaven Of all true joyes by one false Joyes delusion So have I seen an unblown virgin fed With sugar'd words so full that she is led A fair attended Bride to a false Bankrupts bed 5 Pull gracious Lord Let not thine Arm forsake The world impounded in her own devises Think of that pleasure that thou once didst take Amongst the Lillies and sweet Beds of spices Hale strongly thou whose hand has pow'r to slake The swift-foot fury of ten thousand vices Let not that dust-devouring Dragon boast His craft has wonne what Judahs Lion lost Remember what it 〈◊〉 Recount the price it cost ISIDOR lib. 1. De summo bono By how much the nearer Satan perceiveth the world to an end by so much the more â—…iercely he troubleth it with persecution that knowing himself is to be damned he may get company in his damnation CYPRIAN in ep. Broad and spatious is the road to infernal liâ—… there are enticements and death-bringing pleasures There the Devil flattereth that he may deceive smileth that he may endamage allureth that he may destroy EPIG. 11. Nay 〈◊〉 and fair good world post not too fast Thy journeys end requires not half this hast Unlesse that arme thou so disdain'st reprives thee Alas thou needs must go the devil drives thee XII ISAIAH 66. 11. Ye may suck but not be satisfied with the breast of her consolation 1 WHat never fill'd Be thy lips skrew'd so fast To th' earths sull breast For shame for shame unseise thee Thou tak'st a surset where thou fhould'st but tast And mak'st too much not half enough to please thee Ah fool â—…orbear Thou swallow'st at one breath Both food poyson down thou draw'st both milk death 2 The ub'rous breasts when fairly drawn repast The thriving infant with their milkie â—…lood But being 〈◊〉 return at last Unwholsome gulps compos'd of wind and bloud A mod'rate use does both repast and please Who strains beyond a mean draws in and gulps disease 3 But O that mean whose good the least abuse Makes bad is too too hard to be directed Can thorns bring grapes or crabs a pleasing juyce There 's nothing wholsome where the whole 's infected Unseise thy lips Earths milk 's a rip'ned core That drops from her disease that matters from her sore 4 Think'st thou that paunch that 〈◊〉 out thy coat Is thriving fat or flesh that seems so brawny Thy paunch is dropsied and thy cheeks are bloat Thy lips are white and thy complexion tawny Thy skin 's a bladder blown with waâ—…ry tumours Thy â—…lesh a trembling bog a quagmire full of humours 5 And thou whose thrivelesse hands are ever straining Earths fluent breasts into an empty sive That alwayes hast yet alwayes art complaining And whin'st for more then earth has pow'r to give Whose treasure flowes and flees away as fast That ever hast and hast yet hast not what thou hast 6 Go choose a substance fool that will remain Within the limits of thy leaking measure Or else go seek an urne that will retain The liquid body of thy slipp'ry treasure Alas how poorely are thy labours crown'd Thy liquour's neither sweet nor yet thy vessel sound 7 What lâ—…sse then fool is Man to prog and plot And lavishout the cream of all his care To gain poore seeming goods which being got Make firm possession but a thorow-fare Or if they stay they furrow thoughts the deeper And being kept with care they loose their carefull keeper S. GREG. Hom. 3. secund. parte Ezech. If we give more to the flesh then we ought we nourish an enemy If we give not to her necessity what we ought we destroy a citizen The flesh is to be satisfied so sarre as 〈◊〉 to our good whosoever alloweth so much to her as to make her proud knoweth not bow to be satisfied To be satisfied is a great art least by the satietie of the slesh we break â—…orth into the iniquitie of her folly HUGO de Anima The heart is a small thing but desireth great matters It is not sufficient for a Kites dinner yeâ—… the whole world is not sufficient for it EPIâ—… 12. What makes thee fool so fat Fool thee so bare Ye suck the self-same milk the self-same aire No mean betwixt all paunch and skin and bone The mean's a vertue and the world has none XIII JOHN 3. 19. Men love darknesse rather then light because their deeds are evil LOrd when we leave the world and come to Thee How dull how slug are wee How backward how preposterous is the motion Of our ungain devotion Our thoughts are milstones and our souls are lead And our desires are dead Our vowes are fairly promis'd faintly paid Or broken or not made Our better work if any good attends Upon our private ends In whose performance one poore worldly scoff Foyls us or beats us off If thy sharp 〈◊〉 find out some secret fault We grumble or revolt And if thy gentle hand forbear we stray Or idly lose the way Is the road fair we loyter cloggd with mire We stick or else retire A lamb appears a lyon and we feare Each bush we see's a bear When our dull souls direct their thoughts to thee The soft-pac'd snayl is not so slow as we But when at eaâ—…th we dart our wing'd desire We burn we burn like â—…ire Like as the am'rous needle joyes to bend To her Magnetick friend Or as the greedy Lovers eye-balls flye At his fair Mistres eye So so we cling to earth we flie and puff Yet flie not fast enough If pleasure becken with her balmy hand Her beck's a strong command If honour call us with her courtly breath An houres delay is death If profits golden finger'd charms enveigle's We clip more sâ—…ift then Eagles Let Auster weep or blustring Boreas rore Till eyes or lungs be sore Let Neptune swell untill his dropsie-sides Burst into broken tides Nor threat'ning rocks nor winds nor waves nor fire Can curb our fierce desire Nor fire nor rocks can stop our surious minds Nor waves nor winds How fast and fearelsse do our footsteps flee The lightfoot Roe-buck's not so swift as we S. AUGUST sup Psal. 64. Two severall Lovers built two severall Cities The love of God buildeth a Jerusalem The love of the world
dart As it hath prickt thy fancy pierâ—…'d thy heart 'T had been thy friend O how has it deceiv'd thee For had this dart but kill'd this dart had sav'd thee XIV PROVERBS 24. 16. A just man falleth seven times and riseth up again but the wicked shall fall into mischief 1 'T Is but a foyl at best and that 's the most Your skill can boast My slipp'ry footing fail'd me and you tripâ—… Just as I slipt My wanton weaknesse did her self betray With too much play I was too bold He never yet stood sure That stands secure Who ever trusted to his native strength But fell at length The Title 's craz'd the Tenure is not good That claims by th' evidence of flesh and bloud 2 Boast not thy skill the riglâ—…eous man falls ost Yet falls but soft There may be dirt to mire him but no stones To crush his bones What if he staggers Nay put case he be Foyl'd on his knee That very knee will bend to Heav'n and woo For mercy too The true-bred Gamester ups a fresh and then Falls to 't agen Whereas the leaden-hearted coward lies And yields his conquer'd life or craven'd dies 3 Boast not thy Conquest thou that ev'ry hour Fall'sâ—… ten times lower Nay hast not pow'r to rise if not in case To fall more base Thou wallow'st where I slip and thou dost tumble Where I but stumble Thou glory'st in thy slav'ries diâ—…ty badges And fall'st for wages Sowâ—…grief and sad repentance scowrs and clears My stains with tears Thy falling keeps thy falling still in ure But when I slip I stand the more sâ—…cure 4 Lord what a nothing is this little Span We call a Man What fenny trash mainteins the smoth'ring sires Of his desires How sleight and short are â—…is resolvs at longest How weak at strongest O if a sinner held by thy fast hand Can hardly stand Good God! in what a desp'rate case are they That have no stay Mans state implyes a necessary curse When not himself he 's mad when most himself he 's worse S. AMBROS. in Serm. ad vincula Peter stood more firmly after he â—…ad lamented his fall then before he fell Insomuch that he found more grace then he lost grace S. CHRYS. in Ep. ad Heliod monach It is no such hainous matter to fall afflicted as being down to lie dejected It is no danger for a souldier to receive a wound in battel but after the wound received through despair of recovery to refuse a remedy for we often see wounded Champions wear the Palm at last and after flight crowned with victory EPIG. 14. Triumph not Cupid his mischance doth show Thy trade doth once what thou dost alwayes do Brag not too soon has thy prevailing hand Foil'd him Ah fool th' ast taught him how to stand XV JEREMIAH 32. 40. I will put my fear in their hearts that they shall not depart from me SO now the soul 's sublim'd her sowre desires Are recalcin'd in heav'ns well-tempred fires The heart restor'd and purg'd from drossie nature Now finds the freedome of a new-born creature It lives another life it breaths new breath It neither feels nor fears the sting of death Like as the idle vagrant having none That boldly ' dopts each house he views his own Makes ev'ry purse his chequer and at pleasure Walks forth and taxes all the world like Caesar At length by vertue of a just command His sides are lent to a severer hand Whereon his passe not fully understood Is texted in a manuscript of blood Thus past from town to town untill he come A sore repentant to his native home Ev'n so the rambling heart that idly roves From crimes to sin and uncontroul'd removes From lust to lust when wanton slesh invites From old-worn pleasures to new choice delights At length corrected by the filiall rod Of his offended but his gracious God And lasht from sins to sighs and by degrees From sighs to vows from vows to bended knees From â—…ended knees to a true pensive breast 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 to torments not by tongues exprest 〈◊〉 and from his sinfull self exil'd 〈◊〉 a glad father he a welcome child O then it lives O then it lives involv'd In 〈◊〉 raptures pants to be dissolv'd 〈◊〉 royall Of spring of a second Birth 〈◊〉 ope to Heav'n and shuts the doors to earth If love-sick â—…ove commanded clouds should hap To rain such show'rs as quickned Danaes lap Or dogs far kinder then their purple master Should lick his sores he laughs nor weeps the faster If earth Heav'ns rivall dart her idle ray To Heav'n 't is wax and to the world 't is clay If earth present delights it scorns to draw But like the jet unrubb'd disdains that straw No hope deceives it and no doubt divides it No grief disturbs it and no errour guides it No fear distracts it and no rage inflames it No guilt condemns it and no folly shames it No sloth besots it and no lust inthralls it No scorn afflicts it and no passion gawls it It is a â—…arknet of immortall life An Aâ—…k of peace the lists of sacred strife A purer piece of endlâ—…sse transitory A shrine of Grace a little throne of Glory A Heav'n-born Of-spring of a new-born birth An earthly Heav'n an ounce of Heav'nly earth S. AUGUST de spir. anima O happy heart where pietie 〈◊〉 where 〈◊〉 subjects where repentance correcteth where obedience directâ—…th where perseverance perfecteth where power protecteth wheâ—…e devotion projecteth where charitie connecteth S. GRâ—…G Which way soever the heart turneth it self if carefully it shall commonly observe that in those very things we lose God in tâ—…ose very things we shall find God It shall find the heat of his power in consideration of those things in the love of whiâ—…h things he was most cold and by what things it fell 〈◊〉 by those things it is raised converted EPIG. 15. My heart but wherefore do I call thee so I have renounâ—…'d my int'rest long ago When thou wert false and fleshly I was thine Mine wert thou never till thou wert not mine THE THIRD BOOK The Entertainment ALL you whose better thoughts are newly born And rebaptiz'd with holy fire can scorn The worlds base trash whose necks disdain to bear Th' imperious yoke of Satan whose chast eare No wanton songs of Sirens can surprize With false delight whose more then Eagle-eyes Can view the glorious flames of gold and gaze On glitt'ring beams of honour and not daze Whose souls can spurn at pleasure and deny The loose suggestions of the flesh draw nigh And you whose am'rous whose select desires Would feel the warmth of those transcendent 〈◊〉 Which like the rising Sun put out the light Of Venus starre and turn her day to night You that would love and have your passions crown'd With greater happinesse then can be found In your own wishes you that would aâ—…ect Where neither scorn nor guile nor disiespect Shall wound your tortur'd souls that would enjoy Where
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
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
and wilt thou bring me to dust again THus from the bosome of the new-made earth Poore man was delv'd and had his unborn birth The same the stuffe the self-same hand doth trim The plant that fades the beast that dies and him One was their sire one was their common mother Plants are his sisters and the beast his brother The elder too beasts draw the self-same breath Wax old alike and die the self-same death Plants grow as he with fairer robes arraid Alike they slourish and alike they â—…ade The beast in sense exceeds him and in growth The three-ag'd oake doth thrice exceed them both Why look'st thou then so big thou little span Of earth What art thou more in being man I but my great Creatour did inspire My chosen earth with that diviner fire Of reason gave me judgement and a will That to know good this to chuse good from ill He put the rains of pow'r in my free hand And jurisdiction over sea and land He gave me art to lengthen out my span Of life and made me all in being man I but thy passion has committed treason Against the sacred person of thy reason Thy judgement is coâ—…rupt perverse thy will That knows no good and this makes choice of â—…ll The greater height sends down the deeper fall And good dâ—…clin'd turns bad turns worst of all Say then proud inch of living â—…arth what can Thy greatnesse claim the more in being man O but my soul transcends the pitch of nature Born up by th' Image of her high Creatour Outbraves the life of reason and beats down Her waxen wings kicks off her brazen crown My earth 's a living Temple t' entertein The King of Glory and his glorious train How can I mend my title then where can Ambition sind a higher style then man Ah but that Image is defac'd and soil'd Her Temple 's raz'd her Altars all desil'd Her vessels are polluted and distain'd With lothed lust her ornaments prophan'd Her oyl-forsaken lamps and hallow'd tapours Put out her incense breaths unsav'ry vapours Why swell'st thou then so giâ—… thou little span Of earth what art thou more in being man Eteâ—…nall Potter whose blest hands did lay My course foundation from a sod of clay Thou know'st my slender vessâ—…l's apt to leak Thou know'st my brittle temper 's prone to break Are my bones brazzil or my slesh of oake O mend what thou hast made what I have broke Look look with gentle eyes and in thy day Of vengeance Lord remember I am clay S. AUGUST Sâ—…liloq 32. Shall I ask who made me It was thou that madest me without whom nothing was made Thou art my maker and I thy work I thank thee my Lord God by whom I live and by whom all things suâ—…sist because thou madest me I thank thâ—… O my Potter because thy hands have made me because thy hands have formed me EPIO. 5. Why swell'st thou man pust up with fame and purse Th' art better earth but born to dig the worse Thou cam'st from eaâ—…th to earth thou must return And art but earth cast from the womb to th' urn VI JOB 7. 20. I have sinned what shall I do unto thee O thou preserver of men why hast thou set me as a mark against thee LOrd I have done and Lord I have misdone 'T is folly to contest to strive with one That is too strong 't is folly to assail Or prove an arm that will that must prevail I 've done I 've done these trembling hands have thrown Their daring weapons down the day 's thine own Forbear to strike where thou hast won the field The palm the palm is thine I yield I yield These ueach'rous hands that were so vainly bold To try a thrivelesse combat and to hold Self-wounding weapons up are now extended For mercy from thy hand that knee that bended Upon her guardlesse guard doth now repent Upon this naked floore See both are bent And sue for pitty O my ragged wound Is deep and desp'rate it is drench'd and drown'd In blood and briny tears It doth begin To stink without and putrifie within Let that victorious hand that now appears Just in my blood prove gracious to my tears Thou great Preserver of presumptuous man What shall I do what satisfaction can Poore dust and ashes make O if that bloud That yet remains unshed were half as good As bloud of oxen if my death might be An offering to attone my God and me I would disdain injurious life and stand A suiter to be wounded from thy hand But may thy wrongs be measur'd by the span Of life or balanc'd with the bloud of man No no eternall sinne expects for guerdon Eternall penâ—…nce or eternall pardon Lay down thy weapons turn thy wrath away And pardon him that hath no price to pay Enlarge that soul which base presumption binds Thy justice cannot loose what mercy finds O thou that wilt not bruise the broken reed Rub not my sores noâ—… prick the wounds that bleed Lord if the peevish infant fights and flies With unpar'd weapons at his mothers eyes Her frowns half mixt with smiles may chance to shew An angry love-trick on his arm or so Where if the babe but make a lip and cry Her heart begins to melt and by and by She coaks his dewy-cheeks her babe she blisses And choaks her language with a thousand kisses I am that child lo here I prostrate lie Pleading for mercy I repent and crie For gracious pardon let thy gentle ears Heare that in words what motheâ—…s judge in tears See not my 〈◊〉 Lord but through my fear And look on ev'ry trespasse through a tear Then calm thy anger and appear more mild Remember th' art a Father I a child S. BERN. Ser. 21. in Cant. Miserable man Who shall deliver me from the reproch 〈◊〉 this shamefull bondage I am a miserable man but a free man Free because like to God miserable because against God O keeper of mankind why hast thou set me as a mark against thee Thou hast set me because thou hast not hindred me It is just that thy enemy should be my enemy and that he who repugneth thee should repugne me I who am against thee am against my self EPIG. 6. But form'd and sight but boâ—…n and then rebell How small a blast will make a bubble swell But dare the â—…oore affront the hand that laid it So apt is dust to fly in 's face that made it VII JOB 13. 24. Wherefore hidest thou thy face and holdest me for thine enemy WHy dost thou shade thy lovely face O why Doth that eclipsing hand so long deny The Sun-shine of thy soul-enliv'ning eye Without that Light what light remains in me Thou art my Life my Way my Light in thee I live I move and by thy beams I see Thou art my Life If thou but turn away My life 's a thousand deaths thou art my Way Without thee Lord I travel not but stray My Light thou
view Make sound my Bucket bore my Pump anew New cast my Plummet make it apt to try Where the Rockâ—… lurk and where the Quick sands lie Guà rd thou the Gulf with love my Calms with care Cleanse thou my Fraught accâ—…pt my slender Fare Refresh the Sea-sick passenger cut short His Voyage land him in his wished Port Thou Thou whom winds and stormy seas obey That through the deep gav'st grumbling Isr'ell way Say to my Soul be safe and then mine eye Shall scorn grim death although grim death stand by O thou whose strength-reviving Arm did cherish Thy sinking Peter at the point to perish Reach forth thy hand or bid me tread the wave I 'll come I 'll come the voyce that calls will save S. AMBROS. Apol. post pro David Cap. 3. 〈◊〉 The consâ—…uence of lusts make a great tempest which in this sea disturbeth the sea-saring soul that reason cannot govern it S. AUGUST Soliloqu Cap 35. We labour in a boysterous sea Thou standest upon the shore and 〈◊〉 our dangers Give us grace to hold a middle course â—…wixt Sâ—…ylla and Charybdis that both dangers escaped we 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 at our Port secure Ep 10. 11. My Soul the seas are rough and thou a stranger In these false coasts O keep aloof there 's danger Cast forth thy plummet see a rock appears Thy ship wants sea-room make it with thy tears XII JOB 14. 13. O that thou wouldst hide me in the grave that thou wouldst keep me secret untill thy wrath be past O Whither shall I fly what path untrod Shall I seek out to scape the flaming rod Of my ostended of my angry God Where shall I sojourn what kind sea will hide My head from Thunder where shall I abide Untill his flames be quench'd or laid aside What if my feet should take their hasty flight And seek protection in the shades of night Alas no shades can blind the God of Light What if my soul should take the wings of day And find some desart if the spring away The wings of vengeance â—…ip as fast as they What if some solid rock should entertain My frighted soul Can solid rocks restrain The stroke of Justice and not cleave in twain Nor Sea nor Shade nor Shield nor Rock nor Cave Nor silent Desarts nor the sullen Grave Where slame-ey'd fury means to smiâ—…e can save The Seas will part Graves open Rocks will split The Shield will cleave the frighted Shadows slit Where Justice aims her fiery darts must hit No no if stern-brow'd vengeance means to thunder There is no place above beneath nor under So close but will unlock or rive in sunder 'T is vain to flee 't is neither here nor there Can scape that hand untill that hand forbear Ah me where is he not that 's every where 'T is vain to flee till gentle mercy shew Her better eye the farther off we go The swing of Justice deals the mightier blow Th' ingenious child corrected doth not flie His angry mothers hand but clings more nigh And quenches with his tears her flaming eye Shadows are faithlesse and the rocks are false No trust in brasse no trust in marble walls Poore cots are even as safe as Princes halls Great God there is no safety here below Thou art my Fortresse though thou seem'st my fo 'T is thou that strik'st the stroke must guard the blow Thou art my God by thee I fall or stand Thy Grace hath giv'n me courage to withstand All tortures but my conscience and thy hand I know thy Justice is thy self I know Just God thy very self is Mercy too If not to thee where whither should I go Then work thy will If passion bid me flee My reason shall obey my wings shall be Stretcht out no further then from thee to thee S. AUGUST in Psal. 30. Whither flie I To what place can I safely flie To what mountain To what den To what strong house What castle shall I hold What walls shall hold me Whithersoever I go my self followeth me For whatsoever thou fliest O man thou maist but thy own conscience wheresoever O Lord I go I find thee if angry a Revenger if appeased a Redeemer what way have I but to flie from thee to thee That thou maist avoâ—d thy God addresse thee to thy Lord EPIG. 12. Hath vengeance found thee Can thy fears command No rocks to shield thee from her thund'ring hand Know'st thou not where to scape I 'll tell thee where My soul make clean thy conscience hide thee there XIII JOB 10. 20. Are not my dayes few Cease then and let me alone that I may bewail my self a little MY Glasse is half unspent Forbear t'airâ—…st My thriâ—…sse day too soon my poore request Is that my glasse may â—…un but out the rest My time-devoured minutes will be done Without thy hâ—…lp see see how swift they run Cut not my thred before my thred be spun The gain 's not great I purchase by this stay What losse sustain'st thou by so small delay To whom ten thousand years are but a day My following eye can hardly make a shift To count my winged houres they fly so swift They scarce deserve the bounteous name of gift The secret wheels of hurrying Time do give So short a warning and so fast they drive That I am dead before I seem to live And what 's a Life a weary Pilgrimage Whose glory in one day doth fill the stage With Childhood Manhood and decrepit Age And what 's a Life the â—…lourishing array Of the proud Summer meadow which today Wears her green plush and is tomorrow hay And what 's a Life A blast sustein'd with clothing Maintein'd with food retein'd with vile self-lothing Then weary of it self again'd to nothing Reade on this diall how the shades devour My short-liv'd winters day houre eats up hoâ—…re Alas the totall's but from eight to soure Behold these Lillies which thy hands have made Fair copies of my life and open laid To view how soon they droop how soon they fade Shade not that diall night will blind too soon My nonag'd day already points to noon How simple is my suit how small my boon Nor do I beg this slender inch to while The time away or falsely to beguile My thoughts with joy here 's nothing worth a smile No no 't is not to please my wanton ears With frantâ—…k mirth I beg but hoâ—…es not years And what thou giv'st me I will give to teaâ—…s Draw not that soul which would be rather led Thâ—…t Seed has yet not broke my Serpents head O shall dy before my sinnes are dead Behold these rags am I a sitting guest To tast the dainties of thy royall feast With hands and face unwash'd ungirt unblest First let the Jordan streams that â—…ind supplies From the deep fountain of my heart arise And cleanse my spots and clear my leprous eyes I have a world of sinnes to be lamented I have a sea of tears that must be vented O spare
live See what thy sinnes have done thy sinnes have made The Sunne of Glory now become thy shade XV PSALM 137. 4. How shall we sing a song of the Lord in a strange land URge me no more this aity mirth belongs To better times these times are not for songs The sprightly twang of the melodious Lute 〈◊〉 not with my voice and both unsuit My untun'd fortunes the affected measure Of strains that are constrain'd 〈◊〉 no pleasure Musick 's the Child of mirth where griefs assail The troubled soul both voyce and fingers fail Let such as ravil out their lavish dayes In honourable riot that can raise Dejected hearts and conjure up a sprite Of madnesse by the Magick of delight Let those of Cupids hospitall that lie Impatient Patients to a smiling eye That cannot rest untill vain hope beguile Their 〈◊〉 torments with a wanton smile Let such redeem their peace and salve the wrongs Of froward Fortune with their frolick songs My grief my grief 's too great for smiling eyes To cure or counter 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉 The Ravens dismall croaks the midnight bowls Of empty Wolues mixt with the 〈◊〉 of 〈◊〉 The nine sad knowls of a dull passing Bell With the loud language of a nightly knell And horrid out-cries of revenged crimes Joyn'd in a medley's musick for these times These are no times to touch the merry string Of Orpheus no these are no times to sing Can hide-bound Prisners that have spent their souls And famish'd bodies in the noysome holes Of hell-black dungeons apt their rougher throats Grown hoarse with begging alms to warble notes Can the sad Pilgrime that hath lost his way In the vast desart there condemn'd a prey To the wild subject or his savage King Rouze up his palsey smitten spir'ts and sing Can I a Pilgrime and a Prisner too Alas where I am neither known nor know Ought but my torments an unransom'd stranger In this strange climate in a land of danger O can my voyce be pleasant or my hand Thus made a Prisner to a forrein land How can my musick relish in your cars That cannot speak for sobs nor sing for tears Ah if my voyce could Orpheus-like unspell My poore Eurydice my soul from hell Of earths misconstru'd Heav'n O then my breast Should warble airs whose rhapsodies should feast The ears of Seraphims and entertain Heav'ns highest Deity with their lofty strain A strain well drencht in the true Thespian Well Till then earths Semiquaver mirth farewell S. AUGUST Med. cap. 33. O infinitely happy are those Heavenly virtues which are able 〈◊〉 praise thee in holinesse and puritie with excessive sweetnesse 〈◊〉 able exultation From thence they praise thee from whence they rejoyce because they continually see for what they rejoyce for what they praise thee But we prest down with this burden of flesh far removed from thy countenance in this pilgrimage and blown up with worldly vanities cannot worthily praise thee We praise thee by faith nor face to face but those Angelicall spirits praise thee face to face and not by saith EPIO. 15. Did I refuse to sing said I these times Were not for songs nor musick for these climes It was my errour are not grones and tears Harmonious raptures in th' Almighties ears THE FIFTH BOOK I. CANTICLES 5. 8. I charge you O daughters of Jerusalem if you find my beloved that you tell him that I am sick of love 1 YOu holy Virgins that so oft surround The cities Saphire walls whose snowy feet Measure the pearly paths of sacred ground And trace the new Jerus'lems Jasper street Ah you whose care-forsaken hearts are crown'd With your best wishes that enjoy the sweet Of all your hopes If e'r you chance to spie My absent Love O tell him that I lie Deep wounded with the flames that furnac'd from his eye 2 I charge you Virgins as you hope to heare The heav'nly musick of your Lovers voice I charge you by the solemne faith ye bear To plighted vows and to that loyall choice Of your affections or if ought more dear You hold by Hymen by your marriage joyes I charge you tell him that a flaming dart Shot from his eye hath pierc'd my bleeding heart And I am sick of love and languish in my smart 3 Tell him O tell him how my panting breast Is 〈◊〉 with flames and how my soul is pin'd Tell him O tell him how I he opprest With the full torments of a troubled mind O tell him tell him that he loves in jest But I in earnest tell him he 's unkind But if a discontented frown appears Upon his angry brow accoast his ears With soft and fewer words and act the rest in tears 4 O tell him that his cruelties deprive My soul of peace while peace in vain she seeks Tell him those damask roses that did strive With white both fade upon my sallow cheeks Tell him no token doth proclaim I live But tears and sighs and sobs and sudden shrieks Thus if your piercing words should chance to bore His hearkning ear and move a sigh give ore To speak and tell him Tell him that I could no more 5 If your elegious breath should hap to rouze A happy tear close harb'ring in his eye Then urge his plighted faith the sacred vows Which neither I can break nor he deny Bewail the torments of his loyall spouse That for his sake would make a sport to die O blessed Virgins how my passion tires Beneath the burden of her fond desires Heav'n never shot such flames earth never felt such fires S. AUGUST Med. cap. 40. What shall I say What shall I do Whither shall I go Where shall I seek him Or when shall I find him Whom shall I ask Who will tell my beloved that I am sick of love 〈◊〉 in Cap. 5. Cant. I live but not I it is my beloved that liveth in me I love my self not with my own love but with the love of my beloved that loveth me I love not my self in my self but my self in him and him in me EPIG. 1. Grieve not my soul nor let thy love wax faint Weep'st thou to lose the cause of thy complaint He 'll come Love ne'r was bound to times nor laws Till then thy tears complain without a cause II. CANTICLES 2. 5. Stay me with flowers and comfort me with apples for I am sick with loveâ—… 1 O Tyrant love I how doth thy sov'reigne pow'r Subject poore souls to thy imperious thrall They say thy cup 's compos'd of sweet and sowre They say thy diet 's honey mixt with gall How comes it then to passe these lips of our Still trade in bitter tast no sweet at all O tyrant love Shall our perpetuall toil Ne'r find a Sabbath to refresh awhile Our drooping souls Art thou all frowns and ne'r a smile 2 You blessed Maids of honour that frequent The royall courts of our renown'd Jehove With flow'rs restore my spirits faint and spent O fetch me apples from Loves
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
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