desir'd For heauenly grounds of graces confirmation And God himselfe so neere himselfe will set you In graces seate where mercy so will loue you That faiths regard will neuer more forget you Nor â—inne nor death nor deuill shall remoue yoâ— But where the Saints and Angels are reciting The heau'nly trueth of high Iâ—houahs story Your rauisht soule in such diuine â—â—diting Shall euermore be singing of his â—lory To the assured hope of which high grace In humble prayer let my poore humble penne In your good fauour begge that blessed place Where my poore heart may happ'ly say Amen Gloria in excelsis Deo The blessed Weeper MY thoughts amaz'd I knowe not how of late Halfe in a slumber and more halfe a sleepe My troubled senses at a strange debate VVhat kind of care should most my spirit keepe Me thought I sawe a silly woman weepe And with her weeping as it seem'd so pleas'd As if her heart had with her teares beene eas'd The place neere which she sate was like a graue But all vncouer'd and the bodie gone VVhere in her care she nothinge seem'd to craue But that stolne bodie how to looke vpon VVhen weeping so appear'd to her anon Two blessed Angels and one Lord of blisse VVho came to comfort this poore wretch of his But ere they came how she in bitter teares Bewail'd the losse or lacke of her deâ—re loue As to her words my vision witnesse beares And my remembrance may for truth approoue The whole discourse her passions seem'd to moue In hearts deepe griefe soules high â—oy conceiued Was as I write were not my thoughts deceiued If euer sorrow in a sinâ—ers hart Liud ' to distill those droppes of bitter teares That to the world in passions can impart Part of that paine the troubled spirit beares Smoothring the woes wherein all pleasure weares Oh let her shewe the deepest of her skill In drawing out the essence of mine ill The losse of health the heart may somewhat craze The losse of wealth distemper may the minde The losse of honouâ— is a fearefull Maze The losse of freends a care of greeuous kinde But all these woes vpon one heart to winde Were much to thinke but much more to beleeue How it could liue whom farre more Crosses greeue But from the bagge of naked pouertie To haue more wealth then all the world can giue And from the care of all calamitie In all the comfort of content to liue Where settled ioy all greefe away doth driue And sodenly growe sicke and poore againe Who câ—n conceiue the plague of such a paine I wretched I the out-cast of all grace And banisht for my sinne from heauenly blisse I that to Hell did headlong runne my race Not caring how my soule was led amisse While I was cosoned by the Serpents hisse I Caitiffe wretch of all the world the worst By sinnes iust doome â—o endlesse sorrow curst I wretched soule whome sinne had bared so As left me naked of all Natures grace I sinke of sinne and also full of woe As knew not how in heauen to haue a place And in the depth of all this desperate case To be relieu'd and cloth'd grac't and belou'd And on the sodaine from all these remou'd To lose the Vesture of that vertues grace That cloth'd my naked soule asham'd of sinne To lose the beautie of that blessed face Where mercies loue did comforts life beginne To lose the ioyes that heauens were glad to winne To lose the life of such a louely Freend Oh let me weepe and neuer make an end The child that hath his Father deerely louing Who sees his faults and greatly doth abhorre them Yet so from wrath will haue his thoughts remoouing As he will neither checke nor chide him for them But puts them backe while pitie standes before them And doth not onely all his faults forgiue But makes him kindely in his grace to liue That happie Child that in his heart hath felt The blessed life of such a Fathers loue Thinke how his heart must needes in sorrow melt That must the losse of such a Father prooue And curse the death doth such a life remooue And as a Creature in all comforts freendlesse Bleede out his time in teares of sorâ—ow endlesse That wicked Child of too much ill am I That had a Father held me all too deere Who from my sinnes did turne his angrie eye And on my sorrow shew'd a smyling cheere And to his grace did take my soule so neere As when asham'd to come his face before He sayd but this Take heede thou sinne no more My sinnes forgiuen what ioy my soule receiu'd None can expresse but the repentant heart Nor can that sorrow euer be conceiu'd To see that Father from that Child depart But in that soule that in the bitter smart Of the true feeling of that Fathers loue Had rather death then his departure prooue The carelesse Seruant that the goods misspends Which his kinde Maister to his trust committâ—â—â— And his neat house to Theeues and Varlets lends And cares for nought but what his humour fitteth That gracious Lord that all such faults remittteth And in his goodnesse doth so deerely loue him That from his fauour nothing shall remooue him So â—ll a Seruant that doth finde the loue Of such a Lord as neuer like was found And in the midst of all his ioy must prooue The death to see his comfort all a ground His blessed Lord by Theeues and Varlets bound Scoft scourg'd beaten sorrowing sighing dying How can that Seruant cease continuall crying That wicked Seruant wâ—etched wretch am I That louing Maister was my liuing Lord Whose gratious giftes abus'd vngratiously VVhose house my soule fowle spirits laide aboard Fild full of sinnes of graces all abhord Yet for all this and all that I â—ould doe My Lord forgaue me and did loue me too He cleans'd my soule from all my filthy sinne And with my teares did wash it cleane againe Draue out the Feends and kindly entred in With grace to heale that sorrow would haue slaine And in his loue did so my teares retaine That euerie droppe that fell vpon his feete Vnto my soule did giue a heauenly â—weet Now such a Maister as was neuer such So good vnto a Seruant none so ill So much abus'd abuses oh too much A cursed crue to worke their hellish will Like rauening VVoolues a silly Lambe to kill Foule darkenesse so to gouerne ouer light VVho would not weepe to death at such a sight A sorrie Sister that hath such a brother As for her loue would venter losse of life And her vnkindnesse so in kindnesse smother As twixt their loâ—es should kill all cause of strife Though her ill course were his hearts cutting knife To see that brother lose his liuing breath How can that Sister choose but weepe to death That Sister I that brother was my Lord VVho in his loue laide downe his life for me VVhose death oh Câ—osse of crosses to record
A Diuine Poeme diuided into two Partes The Rauisht Soule and the Blessed VVeeper Compiled by Nicholas Breton Gentle-man ImprÃnted at London for Iohn Browne and Iohn Dâ—â—ne 1601. ⧠TO THE RIâ—HT Honourable discreete and vertuous Lady the Nourisher of the Learned and fauourer of the Godly my singuler good Lady the Lady Mary Countesse of Penbrooke Nich Breton wisheth all the good that the heauens will the world can giue to the pleasure of the Highest and her worthy heartes desire RIght Honorable matter of most worth to most worthy mindes is most worthily presented What matter in worth may compare with diuine meditation What minde more worthy honour then the heauenly enclined and whose minde more truly worthy of that blessed Title then your Ladiships I would there were many but I know too fewe Being thâ—n in that excellent sense truly your selfe whom for more worth then I will speake of the wise admire the learned followe the vertuous loue and the honest serue vouchsafe me leaue among those poore people that being throwen from the world looke only towards heauen heauenly graces to lay before your eyes a diuine humour of a rauisht soule which being aboue it selfe caried into the heauenly meditations of the mercies of the Almightie by the blessing of his Holy Spirit hath brought forth such fruits of his praise as I hope wil be pleasing to your good fauour To the honour of whose commaundement auowing the duty of my hearts seruice in al humble thaÌ„kâ—â—lnesse for your bountifull vndeserued goodnesse praying for your eternall happinesse I take my leaue Your Ladiships in all humblenesse Nicholas Breton To the Reader YOV that with a zealous loue of Religion with an indifferent regard of Learning and without disdaine of Poetry will vouchsafe to bestow a little time in the perusing of this little volume of verses it may be you wil not repent you of your Labour nor thinke much of your cost but when you haue once read it ouer perhaps beginne it againe and ende it without wearinesse If you note it well you may finde matter of comforte and nothing to the contrarie God truely glorified in his manifould blessinges and man greatly blessed that being endued with his Graces by faithe taketh hould of his mercies the Athists confounded in their follies and the vertuous blessed in their election This if you finde not blame either your selfe or me but if you note what I write much good doe you in the Reading and God encrease you in his blessing And so in the best nature of loue leauing you to the ioy of the best life I end Your frend Nicholas Breton In Auctorem TWo hopefull Twinnes â—oynt issues of one braine A â—auisht Soule and longing Spirit sends Into your bosomes high and heauenly traine That are wits kâ—nsemen and the Muses friends Embrace them loue them and with iudgements view Eye them Beleeue me Reâ—der thou shalt finde Their limmes well measur'd and proportions tâ—uâ— No part dissenting from their perfect kinde Onely the fashion sits not on their clothes To make them sightly to fantasticke eyes Pallas not Venus did the worke dispose Cutting their garments from Angellickè skies Plaine is their habite yet Diuine and sweete Fit for the wise but for the wisest meete H. T. Gent. The rauisht Soule Gloria in excelsis Deo SIng my soule to God thy Lord All in glories highest keye Laie the Aungells quier aboorde In their highest holy daie Craue their helps to tune thy heart Vnto praises highest parte Tell the world no woâ—ld can tell What the hand of heauen deserueth In whose onely Mercies dwell All that heauen and earth preserueth Deaths confounding Sinnes forgiuing Faiths relieuing Comforts liuing Grace and glory life and loue Be the suâ—me of all thy dittie Where a sinners teareâ— may proue Comforts â—oy in merciâ—s pitty Euery note in louâ— alluding Endlesse glory in concluding Prayse of prayses where thou dwellesâ— Tell me if the world may know thee In what sense thou most â—xcellest When thy wonder worth doeth shew thee In that state of honours story Where thou gain'st thy highest glorie â—â—s not earth nor earthly wonder Can discerne thy dearest honour All her praises are put vnder When thy glory lookes vpon her Noâ— in heauen thy glorie dwelleth Where thy wonder most excelleth Yet in heauen was neuer liuing Virgin Saint nor Angels spirit VVhere thy Grace may haue the giuing Of thine honours highest Merite T is their glories admiration That deserues thy commendation Since then by all consequences In the notes of Glories nature And the Graces influences T is no earth nor heauenly creature In my God alone on high Is this onely mysterie And since in his Maiestie All and onely euer dwelleth That most glorious Deity That all prayses praise excelleth Say although thy soule attend him It can neuer comprehend him If thou speak'st of power all powers To his power are in subiection If thou speak'st of time all houres Run their course by his direction If of wisedome all is vanitie But in his Diuine humanitie If of trueth it is his triall If of loue it is his treasure If of life it is his diall If of grace it is his pleasure If of goodnesse t is his storie If of mercy t is his glorie If of iustice Iudgement sheweth His proceeding is impartiall If of valour all hell knoweth Who is heauens high Marshall If of bountie t is his blessing If of place t is his possessing If of patâ—ence his perfection If of comfort t is his fauour If of vertue his affection If of sweete it is his â—auour If of triumph t is his merite If perfection t is his spirit If aboue all these thou singest Rauisht in thy reasons glory Tell the world what ere thou bringest Admirations wonders story To such height my Sauiour raiseth As aboue all praises prayseth Let all kings and princes then In submission fall before him Virgins Angels holy men Both in heauen and earth adore him In his onely mercie seeing All and onely all your being Babes and children shew his Glory In your silly soules preseruing Men and Women note this storie Of the life of loues deseruing Heauen and earth be euer reading Of this essence of exceeding Sunne and Moone and euery creature In that shining starrie skie All confesse your brightnesse feature In the hand of mercies eye And for all your blessed powers Shew it Gods and none of yours And when all the world together Ioyne with Angels harmonie Let my soule come singing thither With that blessed company God in mercies power victorious Be aboue all Glory glorious Amen Sacred Muse that onely sittest In the Spirits of the Blessed And the faithfull onely fittest With their thoughts to heauen addressed Helpe my humble soule to sing To my Glorious heau'nly King All abandon earths coniecture Thinke not on so meane an instance Make thine honours Architecture But on Graces glorious substance There in comforts confirmation Build thy heauenly habitation
Study not Astronomy Least to darkenesse turne thy light But thaâ— high Diuinitie Where the day hath neuer night There finde out that worke of worth That may bring thy wonder forth In the teares of true contrition Think on Mercies blessednes And in care of loues condition Of perfections holinesse Then in notes of Graces glory Make the state of all thy story Il Christiano al honore di Christo. BEfore there was a light there was a light Which saw the world the world could neuer see From which the world receiues his brightest sight Yet cannot see what brightnesse there may be From this faire light there came a liuing loue A loue which giues the liuing all their seeing And in the life of all thâ—ir seeing prooue The onely essence of their onely being From this bright loue there came a liuing word A word that doeth in wisedome signifie What heauen and earth in wonder can afford Is but in life this loue to dignifie For in this Word was that Almightie power Which was before that power was euer named Begun before the first beginning houre Framing each substance that was euer framed And in that word that onely wisedome dwelleth That onely knowes what onely may be knowne And in that knowleâ—ge knowledge all excelleth Because it knowes all knowledge is his owne This worthy word of wisedomes wonderment To giue some notice of his powerfull nature In wisedome made his will an instrument To shew himselfe vnto his silly creature This holy essence of the Deitie In Virgins wombe did take the vaile of flesh Bringing the dewe of blessed charitie Our withring spirits sweetly to refresh This highest height of heauenly Maiestie This word of wisedomes gracious glorious loue Inuested in all vertues vnitie That perfect God and perfect man approue From the sweet bosome of his Fathers brest Eternall Babe of all eternall blisse All blessed babe that made the mother bleâ—t By that sweet blessed holy loue of his From the high Throne of heau'nly glories seate Vnto this world this worthlesse world descended With their crosse spirits kindely to intreat For their owne good that highly him offended This blessed Infant of Eternitie And onely glorious Essence of the same By the cleare light of his all-seeing eye Beholding all things all so out of frame Vnto his seruants to make knowne his loue And to redeeme what lacke of loue had lost In tender age and elder yeeres did prooue How patience care might be in passions crost When first sweet Infant in the mothers armes Fed with the milke of pure Virginitie How did he scape the Tyrant Herods harmes That little knew of his Diuinitie But Oh when first his presence sweet appear'd Vnto the silly shepheards in the field With how much ioy were all their spirits chear'd Whose humble eyes his heauenly face beheld While in the heauens the Angels sung for ioy That peace by him vnto the world was come By him who should both death and hell destroy And be the Sauiour of his Chosen summe The Virgin mother ioyed in her childe And in her ioy did call her sonne her Sauiour Whose gracious spirit in her countenance milde Did shew the blessing of her meeke behauiouâ— Oh blessed Sonne the Fathers best belou'd In whom he all and onely did delight How many wayes his workes in wonder proou'd He held the scepter of his Fathers right In simplenesse all harmelesse as the Doue In learning putting all the Doctours downe In power the hand of highest heau'ns behoue In state the king of kings in glories crowne In patience the true proofe of suâ—â—erance In truth the touch-stone of all vertues trialll In loue director of lifes ordinance In life the hande of the eternall Diall In charitie the giuer of all good In bountie the bestower of all blisse In mercie faithes eternall blessed food In grace the guide that cannot leade amisse In wisedome founder of all wit and sense In will the worker of all wonders worth In essence all the Summe of excellence In all that good that bringes all glorie forth This essence all incomprehensible Yet willing in his merâ—ies to be knowne That glorie might not be offensible That in a shadowe onely should be showne First in the time of feeble Infancie When natures weaknesse fled a feared force Then in the yeeres of Reasons constancie When gratious mercie gloried in Remorse Came to the worlde to call the worlde to come Vnto his Call that had the heauens at Call Healing the sicke the blinde lame deafe and dumme And rais'd them vp that readie were to fall Contented with the badge of pouertie Who might commaund both heauen and earth at wil Lodg'd in a manger in humilitie Who in himselfe both heauen and earth did fill Threatned with death who was the life of life Sought to be slaine who was the death of death The ground of peace yet with the world at strife And suffred death yet gaue the liuing breath Seeke heauen and earth and finde out such another So might command and so would be commanded Who was our King yet would become our brother Might strike all dumbe and yet wold be demanded VVould leaue such pleasure and endure such paine And for their liues that crucified his loue VVith losse of life to make their liuing gaine That prooued Turkies to their Turtle-doue VVho euer crau'd his help and was denied VVho loued him so but left him at his death VVho euer fail'd whose faith on him relied Yet who for him would spare one fauours breath Oh Lord what madnesse could be more in men Then when they knew the trueth to make a doubt And long in darkenesse hauing light euen then To blinde themselues to put the candle out And blessed women that his death bewailed While hearts deepe griefe found comforts high perfection When passions teares so much with loue preuailed As first to them reueal'd his resurrection The mother wept to see her sonne so vsed The sinner wept to see her Sauiour dying The cousin wept to see her kin abused All for his death fell to a deadly crying The Sunne eclipst the day did loose his light And stones did rise against their makers foes The Temple rent the people were affright And from the graues the troubled spirits rose All these were tokens of his holy trueth To make men know how they were woe begon them But gracelesse spirits voyd of gracious ruth Ventred to take the guiltlesse blood vpoâ— them Here then behold thâ— mâ—iestie of blisse That pray'd for them that preâ—'d vpon him so Content with all might come to him amisse So his with him might to their comfort goe His life the Lantherne of eternall light His death the pâ—â—â—age â—o eternall rest His grace â—hâ—â—â—rke of the most blessed sight His loue the life of the eternall blâ—st His miracles the witnesse of his power His Sacraments remembrance of his loue His resurrection his triumphant houre And his Ascension Angels ioyes aboue His trauaile all to bring our soules to rest
His prayer for our preseruation His worke to ioy the spirits of the blest His word the assured trueth of our sâ—â—uation His warre a fight but onely for our peace His peace thâ— ioy wherin our soules doe liue His woundes the salue that doth our woes release His triumph freely of his grace to giue Oh should I runne into that world of worth Wherin his glory duely doth increasâ— I should more wonder of most worth bring forth Then thought can reach vntill all thinking cease But since true loue requiâ—ed with vnkindnesse Grace with disgrace Comfort with miserie Wisedome with folly Truth with falshoods blinâ—nes Honour with shame and right with iniury Since all the contraries of true content That wit and reason rightly maie receiue His heauenly mercy truely patient All for our good full meekely did receiue And being gon from our vngratious handes Vnto the right hand of his fathers rest There in his hourely intercession standes For our remission making loâ—es request And by his worde the Message of his will Sent by the Preachers of his prooued truthe Doth call our soules from all accursed ill Vnto the good of gracious mercies ruth And bids our faith to feare no hurt of sinne And leaues vs lessons in the â—â—les of grace VVhere true repentance doth remission winne And humble faith doth finde in heauen a place And lets vs see each day and euerie night A kinde of figure both of heauen and hell And how that sinnes doe alwaies fly the light VVhile blessed graces doe in brightnes dwell And howe the vertuous in the heauens are blessed And how the vicious in their horrors hated And howe the Iust shall haue their wrongs redressed And how the proude shall haue their pride abated How Charitie shall be in heauen rewarded How patience care shall richly be contented How Bribrie shall be vtterly discarded And Tyrannie shall be in hell tormented How humble faith shall be in heau'n beloued And gracious spirits blessedly embraced And faithlesse spirits from all grace remooued And gracelesse spirits vtterly disgraced When life shall be pronounc'â— to the elected And loue shall take the charge of the beloued And hell receiue the soules of the reiected To endlesse paines of gracelesse will reproued VVhen this I say and all that can be sayd That may reuiue the vertuous in their death And iustly make the reprobate afraide VVith looking downe into their hell beneath Our Loâ—d hath left vs in those lines of loue That heau'nly wisedom wrote for our instruction Yet we all carelesse of our soules beâ—oue VVill headlong runne vpon our owne destruction VVhat shall I say but let the Atheist frie VVithin â—he coles of his owne conscience fire Torments too true too late will make him trie He cannot scape the furie of Gods ire And let the faithfull in their fearelesse hope Assure their spirits of especiall Grace The breadth of heauen doeth beaâ—e so large a scope That none so poore but there shall haue a place And let the prince not glory in his crowne But lay it at the feet of mercies loue And let the haughtie pull those humours downe That onely worke for wicked hels behoue Oh let the faire leaue painting of their faces And onely seeke the beautie of the minde For God alonâ— doeth loue the inward graces And not the shadowes that the eye doe blinde And let the rich not let his riches rust But seeke the wealth but of the spirits worth Foâ— God doth know your treasuâ—e is but dust And ye but stewards for to let it forth And let the wise so well employ their wits They may attaine the knowleâ—â—e to doe well And shun the follies of those madding fits That leauing heauen doe run the way to hell Oh let that Queene be truely Angel-like With graces Scepter holdes the Sword of peace And by her faith in mercies hande doth seeke A ioyfull Kingdome that shall neuer cease And let that Ladie thinke her selfe a Queene That hath possession of her spirite so That she could leaue all comfoâ—ts she hath seene And her owne selfe vnto her God to goe And let that Souldier most that valour loue Where God assistes the faithfull in their fight While lacke of faith in Coward feare doth prooue Each shadowe doth the faithlesse soule affright And let the Lawyer looke on iustice lines And knowe that God will right the poore mans wrong And that such Lawyers as are true Diuines Doe loue the Muses sing of mercies songe And let the Marchant loue that traffique best Where trauaile findes the treasure of Gods grace VVhile greedie mindes that fill the golden chest Shall neuer see their Sauiour in the face And let the Scholler that doth studie most Finde out the truth of lifes eternall treasure And thinke all labour in his studie lost VVhere God his grace giues not the spirit pleasure And let the louer leaue his wanton looke VVith such illusions as enchaunt the minde And onely loue the beautie of that Booke VVhere God alone is in his loue to finde Abhorre the Diuell and he will depart Grace is as neere as sinne if you will craue it So faith doe begge it with repentant heart For feare nor pride are euer like to haue it Crie vnto Christ whome you haue crucified In teares of loue reueale your hate of sinne So in your greefe when grace is gloâ—ified Be sure in mercie doth your blisse beginne Beleeue his worde seeke to obey his will And know the worke is his and none of yours Striue to doe well and flye the way to ill And be submissiue to supernall poweâ—s Be patient in the crosse of any care Repentant in remembrance of amisse Constâ—nt in faith loue God without compare And giue all glory to that name of his Hate him that speakes against his Maiestie Loue him in soule that will forsake him neuer And know the scorners of the Deity Shall all be damn'd and frie in hell for euer Goe to your closet louely there alone Bleede forth in teares the trueth of your beliefe And you shall see your smallest spirits groane Will finde a grace to ease you of your griefe For he that knowes the secrets of your thought And knowes the natures of your sinnes disease Will neuer see your spirit ouer-wrought But in the instant giue you present ease You shal be the deare daughter of his loue And like a father he will looke vpon you And in his mercy so much comfort proue That you shall neuer more be woe-begon you Your soule in heauen shall halfe already be The Angels ginne to set your part to sing Your spirits eye shall in somâ— graceâ— seâ— Some shadowing glory of your heauenly king And you all rauisht with your heauenly ioy Will so his gracious glorious Name â—dore That being healed of your soules annoy This hatefull world shall be your loue no more And you of men that haue bene long admir'd For many worthes well worthy admiration Shall then of Angels be as much
Ah wretch that euer I was borne to see Though by his death my life must onely be To lose a Father Maister Brother such Child Seruant Sister how caâ— I weepe too much Shame bad me weepe ynough to see how sinne Besmeered had my soule with ougly spottes And weepe to feele how I was feltred in The wretched snarles of wicked natures knots And weepe to looke vpon those loathsome blots That fild me so with greefe of all disgrace I durst not see my Sauiour in the face At whose sweete feete I kneeling wept with feare I had offended to presume so neere But sinne so fled away at euerie teare That grace beganne my heauie heart to cheere When my deere Lord sayd not VVhat dost thou here Or get thee hence or like a dogge out spurne mee But from my sinne vnto his mercie turne me He felt my teaâ—es though no man heard my weeping And gaue me grace though no man for me mou'd him Which made me know he had my soule in keeping Though sinne too long too far from me remou'd him For sinne once fled how deare in soule I lou'd him His words can witnesse that my soule did tuch Much is forgiuen her for she loued much He loued much that me so much forgaue Such my forgiuer how much should I loue Forgaue my sinnes and from the Feend did saue My wounded soule that could no comfort prooue Till grace and mercie did my greefe remooue But when I felt my paine of sinne once past In mercies grace I wept with ioy as fast But oh my soule vnworthy of this sweete Could not enioy these ioyfull teares too long For sinne and sorrow did so soundly meete As made my heart to sing another songe VVhen I beheld the too apparant wronge My Lord my Loue my life my King and God For my poore soule and for my sinnes abode To see the Lambe that bleated but our blisse Brought all by Woolues vnto a bleeding end To see that cruell shamefull death of his VVho did his course but for our comfort bend And held our foe that was our deerest Freend VVho did such good and to receiue such ill VVeepe heart to death and die in weeping still Vngratefull wretches worthlesse of al grace Rebellious Subiects Traytours to your King Could yee behold his workes before your face VVhat choise of good his charitie did bring And from your hearts could so much venom springe As with the Lord of peace to stirre such strife To seeke his death who onely gaue you life Slaues Doggâ—s and Diuels worse if I could call yee That so haue showne the malice of your mindes I cannot wish more ill then shall befall yee That are the impes of such accursed kindes As ougly Sathan with illusions blindes I weepe not for your sorrow but to see That all yee did not die to set him free And better had it beene for yee to die Then haue beene borne to bringe him to his death And by your deeds to die eternally Or liue in death within the Hell beneath Where neuer ayer shal breath you wholesome breath But by your choise of torments make you know VVhat yee haue done to breede my weeping so Alas what sinne but did my soule possesse But that accursed crucifying sinne That would not let your wicked soules confesse His glorious grace whose grace did first beginne By true desert all glorie due to winne And by such grace did winne my soule so to him My death were sweete if it might seruice doe him Oh that my teares kept number with my sinnes Or that my sinnes were drowned in my teares Then should my weeping shew how ioy beginnes In faithfull heart where fearefull sorrow weares And comforts blisse so much contentment beares That hope shold shew that halfe a heauen doâ—h win Better to weepe in grace then laugh in sinne But what speake I of either sinne or grace My sinnes too greeuous and my gace is gone My life â—s dead the earth is all too base For my loues Lord to deigne to looke vpon Where liues not one good creature no not one And what should I but weepe to liue to see I cannot see where my sweete Lord may be But since mine eyes haue liued to behold The heauenly substance of my life and loue Wherein my faith doth gratiously vnfould The onely blessing of my soules behoue All in the glorie of the heauens aboue Why should I liue and looke vpon the light Now I haue lost the ioy of such a sight No I doe hope my darkenesse will not hold The night will passe and Sunne againe will shine Although my heart in comfort be a cold My soule doth tell me that these teares of mine Shall all be dri'd vp by his hand diuine Who so will cure me of my sinfull sore That I shall ioy in grace and weepe no more But he is gone my spirits onely sweete And I am left a wretched sinner heere Oh that my teares could with my comfort meete And I might see my sauing health so neere As with his sight my heauie heart might cheere Then should I loue mine eyes for such a seeing Without which sight they ioy not in their being Let me then seeke where I may hope to see The onely substance of my ioying sight And neuer rest nor euer wearie be Vntill I come vnto that starre of light Which may direct my heart and spirit right Vnto that place where gracious loue will show My soule his presence that it loueth so To clime to heauen it is too high a place Sinne weighes me downe to loue to seeke him there For hell it is vnworthy of such grace And for the world my sorrow witnesse beare It is not worthy of his name to heare Then since nor heere nor there without all doubt Within the graue I must goe seeke him ouâ— Oh ground more gracious then the world besides Which do'st enclose that all the world commaundes And blessed earth that in thy Center hides His Corpse for whom my weeping soule demaunds Tell me oh heauens into what holy handes He is conuey'd and where he now may be VVhome thus my heart with teares desires to see Thus weeping still two Angels did appeare VVho as it seem'd desirous for to know The monefull cause of this her mourning cheere Wherefore she wept and what she sought for so Briefely she thus her greefe beganne to shewe Wringing her hands with many a bitter teare Her Lord was stolne and laid she knew not where O blessed Angels blessed as yee be Tell me where is my highest blisse become Your Lord and mine oh tell me where is he May cheere the heart that sorrow doth benumme Starue not my teares vouchsafe my soule one crumme Of comforts care to let me truely know VVhere is my Loâ—d that I lament for so But doe yee aske me whome I seeke for so Or why I weepe Because I cannot finde him O heauenly creature helpe my soule to knowe But where he is that I may come behinde him That he may know but how my loue doth mind him If dead I may vnto his tombe restore him And if aliue I may on knees adore him Oh happie Gardiner of this holy ground Blest art thou borne if thou hast liu'd to see That blessed bodie where it may be found That here lay buried tell me if thou be Sent from my Lord to come and comfort me VVho hence hath stolne the substance of my blisse And where bestowed that holy Corps of his But doe you aske me why I weepe so much And what I â—eeke I seeke my soules delight And weepe because I finde not any such As can direct me to so sweete a sight This is the cause of my hearts heauie plight Oh tell me then and put me out of doubt Dead or aliue where I may finde him out Thus while her eyâ—s continuall weeping kept Came Christ himselfe although a while vnknowne VVho askt her what she sought and why she wept She as before vnto the Angels showne Began in teares to make her pitious mone Her Lord waâ— stoln bornâ— she knew not whither But if he knew he would diâ—ect her thither But while the Lord of all her life and loue Beheld her teares the witnes of her truth To make her faith in heauenly fauour prooue The sweete reward of mercies sacred ruth And know what life of such a loue ensueth Spake but one word but that word was so sweete As would haue made her soule to kisse his feete Marie quoth he Oh Maister blessed voice From which my heart receiâ—es so sweet a sound As makes my soule in rauisht ioy reioyce To thinke to liue that I my Lord haue found Oh let my sinnes be in my teâ—â—es so drown'd That in my ioyes my â—oule be eueâ— weeping To haue thy presence in my Comforts keeping I will not presse one foote beyond the line Of thy loues leaue vouchsafe me but a looke Of that sweete heauenly holy eye of thine Of my deere Loue the euer-â—iuing Booke VVherein my teares haue such tâ—â—â— comfort tooke That let the world torment 〈◊〉 nere so sore Let me see thee and I desire no more Oh sight more pretious then tongue can expresse VVherein the eye doth comfort so the heart The heart the soule and all in their distresse Doe find an ease and end of euerie smart VVhen â—ie and heart and soule and euerie part Conclude in ioy that comfort did beginne Better to weepe in grace then laugh in sinne And with that word she vanisht so away As if that no such woman there had beene But yet me thought her weeping seem'd to say The Spirit was of Marie Magdalen VVhose bodie now although not to be seene Yet by her speech it seemed it was she That wisht all women might such VVeepers be FINIS