aliue or dead And would not cease vntill her loue might haue Her longed fruite on which her spirit fed One blessed crumme of that sweet heauenly bread Of Angels food but of her Lord a sight Whose heauenly presence prou'd her soules delight Midas did long for nothing els bur Gold And he was kindely choaked for his choyce Such longing loue doeth with too many hold Which onely doe in worldly drosse reioyce But did they hearken to the heauenly voyce Their Diamondes should not so for drosse be sold And they would long for God and not for gold Zacheus too long longed for such drosse Till Iesus came his spirits further ioye And then he found his gaine did yeeld but losse While sinne in conscience bred the soules annoye And vnto heauen the world was but a toye He left it all and climed vp a tree To shew his longing how but Christ to see And well he longd that so his loue receiued Who sweetly saw and kindly call'd him downe His stature low but his loue high conceiued Who so was grac't by mercies glories crowne As hauing cause vpon his sinnes to frowne Forgaue the workes that did deserue damnation And fill'd his house with glory of saluation A blessed longing of a blessed Loue. Would so all soules did loue and so did long And in their longing might so sweetly prooue The gratious ground of such a glorious songe As kils all sinne that doth the spirit wrong And sing with Simeon at his Sauiours sight Oh now my soule depart in peace delight Oh blessed Simeon blessed was thy loue And thy Loues longing for thy Sauiour so Who wrought so sweetly for thy soules behoue As from thy prayers would not let thee goe Till to thy loue he did his presence showe Which made thee sing when sorrowes all did cease Lord let thy Seruant now depart in peace For I according to thy word haue seene The glorious substance of my soules saluation Thy word in whome my trust hath euer beene And now hath found my comforts confirmation Thus did he make a ioyfull declaration Of that sweete sight of his sweet Sauiours face That was the glorie of his spirits grace How many yeeres he all in prayer spent For the beholding of his blessed loue What was the yssue of his hopes euent And how his prayers did preuaile aboue That so his God did vnto mercie moue As to his armes to send his onely Sonne The Storie doth all th'Apostles runne He was well call'd good Simeon for that grace That God had giuen the spirite of his loue That loue that long'd but in his Sauiours face To see the blessing of his soules behoue And blessed prayer that did truely proue A blessed soule that could not prayer cease Till Christ his presence came to giue it peace So should all soules their Loues chiefe longing haue All soules I meane of euerie Christian hart That seeke or hope both heart and soule to saue From Hell damnation and supernall smart This is the loue that in the liuing part Of mercies power shall finde that blessednesse That is the spirits onely happinesse Nor can loue looke to limit out a time But now and then and euermore attende For he shall neuer to that comfort clime That will not all his life in prayer spend Vntill he see his Sauiour in the end In whose sweet face doeth all and onely rest The heauenly ioy that makes the spirit blest Blest be the spirit that so longs and loues As did Zacheus and good Simeon And from his faithfull prayer neuer mooues Vntill he find his life to looke vpon And in such loue is all so ouer gon That in such ioy his heart and spirit dwels As hauing Christ it cares for nothing els Oh blessed Christ the essence of all blisse All blessed soules loues longings chiefe delight What heart can thinke how that soule blessed is That euer hath his Sauiouâ—r in his sight The sunny day that neuer hath a night Oh that my spirit might so euer pray That I might liue to see that blessed day The day that onely springeth from on high That high day light wherein the heauens doe liue The life that loues but to behold that eye Which doeth the glory of all brightnesse giue And from th'enlightned doth all darkenesse driue Where Saints doe see and Angels know to be A brighter light then Saints or Angels see In this lights loue Oh let me euer liue And let my soule haue neuer other loue But all the pleasures of the world to giue The smallest sparke of such a ioy to proue And euer pray vnto my God aboue To grant my humble soule good Simeons grace In loue to see my Sauiour in the face O face more faire then fairenesse can containe O eye more bright then brightnesse can declare O light more pure then passion can explaine O life more blest then may with blisse compare O heauen of heauens where such perfections are Let my soule liue to loue to long to bee Euer in prayer but to looke on thee But oh vnworthy eye of such a sight And all vnworthy heart of such a loue Vnworthy loue to long for such a light Vnworthy longing such a life to prooue Vnworthy life so high a suit to mooue Thus all vnworthy of so high a grace How shall I see my Sauiour in the face All by the prayer of true penitence Where faith in teares attendeth graces time My Soule doth hope in mercies patience My heart all cleansed from my sinfull crime To see the springing of Auroras prime In those bright beames of that sweete blessed Sunne Of my deere God in whome all blisse begunne And that my soule may such a blessing see Let my heart pray and praying neuer cease Till heart and soule may both together be Blest in thy sight all sorrowes doth release And with good Simeon then depart in peace Oh then but then and onely euer then Blest be my soule sweete Iesus say Amen Gloria in excelsis Deo VVhat is Loue. MEn talke of loue that know not what it is For could we know what loue may be indeede We would not haue our mindes so led amisse With idle toyes that wanton humours feede But in the rules of higher reason read What loue may be so from the world conceal'd Yet all too plainely to the world reueal'd Some one doth faine Loue is a blinded God His blindnesse him more halfe a Diuell showes For Loue with blindnesse neuer made abode Which all the power of wit and reason knowes And from whose grace the ground of knowledge growes But such blinde eyes that can no better see Shall neuer liue to come where loue may be Some onely thinke it onely is a thought Bred in the eye and buzzeth in the braine And breakes the heart vntill the minde be brought To feede the senses with a sortie vaine Till wits once gone come neuer home againe And then too late in mad conceit doe prooue Fantasticke wits are euer
voide of loue Some thinke it is a babe of beauties getting Nurst vp by Nature and times onely breeding A pretty worke to set the wits a whetting Vpon a fancy of an humours feeding Where reason findes but little sense in reeding No no I see children must goe to Schoole Philosophie is not for euery foole And some againe thinke there is no such thing But in conceit a kinde of coyned Iest Which onely doth of idle humors spring Like to a Bird within a Phoenix nest Where neuer yet did any yong one rest But let such fooles take heed of blasphemie For loue is high in his Diuinitie But to be short to learne to finde him out T is not in beauties eyes nor babyes harts He must goe beat another world about And seeke for loue but in those liuing parts Of reasons light that is the life of Arts That will perceiue though he can neuer see The perfect essence whereof loue may be It is too cleare a brightnesse for mans eye Too high a wisedom for his wits to finde Too deepe a secret for his sense to trie And all too heauenly for his earthly minde It is a grace of such a glorious kinde As giues the soule a secret power to know it But giues no heart nor spirit power to show it It is of heauen and earth the highest beautie The powerfull hand of heauens and earths creation The due commander of all spirits duety The Deitie of Angels Adoration The glorious substance of the soules saluation The light of Truthe that all perfection trieth And life that giues the life that neuer dieth It is the height of God and hate of ill Tryumph of Trueth and falshoods ouerthrow The onely worker of the highest will And onely knowledge that doeth knowledge know And onely ground where it doeth onely growe It is in summe the substance of all blisse Without whose blessing all thing nothing is But in it selfe it selfe it all containeth And from it selfe but of it selfe it giueth It nothing loseth and it nothing gaineth But in the glorie of it selfe it liueth A ioy which soone away all sorrow driueth The prooued truth of all perfections storie Our God incomprehensible in glorie Thus is it not a Riddle to be read And yet a secret to be found in reading But when the heart ioynes yssue with the head In settled faith to seeke the spirits feeding While in the woundes that euer fresh are bleeding In Christ his side the faithfull soule may see In perfect life what perfect loue may be No further seeke then for to finde out loue Then in the liues of euerliuing blisse Where carefull conscience may in comfort prooue In sacred loue that heauenly substance is That neuer guides the gracious minde amisse But makes the soule to finde in lifes behoue What thing indeed end nothing else is loue Then make no doubt of either good or bad If this or that in substance or in thought And by what meanes it may be sought or had Whereof it is and how it may be wrought Let it suffice the word of truth hath taught It is the grace but of the liuing God Before beginning that with him abode It brought forth power to worke wisedome to will Iustice to iudge Mercie to execute Vertue to plant Charitie to fill Time to direct Truth falshood to confute Pitie to pleade in pemtences suite Patience to bide and peace to giue the rest To prooue how loue doth make the spirit blest And this is God and this same God is loue For God and loue in charitie are one And charitie is that same God aboue In whome doth liue that onely loue alone VVithout whose grace true loue is neuer none Then seeke no further what is loue to finde But onely carie God within thy minde Leaue in the world to looke for any loue For on the earth is little faith to finde And faithlesse hearts in too much trueth doe proue Loue doth not liue where care is so vnkinde Men in their natures differ from their kinde Sinne fils the world so full of secret euils Men should be Gods to men but they are deuils Christ lou'd to death yet loue did neuer die For loue by death did worke the death of death Oh liuing loue oh heauenly Mystery To great a glory for this world beneath The blessed breathing of the highest breathe Blest are they borne that onely finde in thee Oh blessed God what blessed loue nay be Let then the Poets leaue their idle humours That write of loue where there is no such thing And let the world not hearken to those rumours That speake of loue or whence that life doeth spring Except it be in this our blessed king And Lord of life in whom our foules may proue The onely life of euerliuing loue Let wantons weepe that laughing sought for loue VVithin the Gems of their mistaken ioyes And turne with teares that perfect path to proue That leades the spirit from the worlds annoyes Vnto that treasure that admits no toyes But in the riches of the soule doeth proue The heauenly life of blessed spirits loue And let the wise if any such there be As God forbid but there were many such That in their soules by secret wisedome see In the true triall of true vertues touch The worth that faith can not affect too much Confesse they finde in trueths effects alone That God is loue without whom there is none Amidde the skie there is one onely sunne Amidde the ayre one onely Phoenix flies One only Time by which all houres doe runne One onely life that liues and neuer dies One onely eye that euerie thought descries One onely light that shewes one onely loue One onely loue and that is God aboue To say yet further what this loue may be It is a holy heauenly excellence Aboue the power of any eye to see Or wit to finde by worlds experience It is the spirit of lifes Quintessence VVhose rare effects may partly be perceiued But to the full can neuer be conceiued It is repentance sweete restoratiue The Rosa solis the ficke soule reuiueth It is the faithfull hearts preseruatiue It is the hauen where happie grace arriueth It is the life that death of power depriueth It is in summe the euerlasting blisse VVhere God alone in all his glorie is It is a ioy that neuer comes in iest A comfort that doth cut off euerie care A rule wherein the life of life doth rest VVhere all the faithfull finde their happie fare A good that doth but onely God declare A line that his right hand doth drawe so euen As leads the soule the high waye vnto heauen If then henceforth you aske what thing is loue In light in life in grace in God goe looke it And if in these you doe not truely prooue How in your hearts you may for euer booke it Vnhappy thinke yourselues you haue mistooke it For why the life that death hath ouer-trod Is but the loue of Grace and
was VVho had no minde but on his Maisters loue VVhose Muses did the world in Musique passe That onely soong but of the soules behoue In giuing glorie to the God aboue Would all worldes fictions wholly laye aside And onely long but with the Lord to bide The Cosmographer that by rules of grace Surueys the Citie of the heauenly Saintes Will neuer long for any earthly place That either penne prescribes or Painter paints But in the faith that neuer failes nor faints Will long to see in heauens Ierusalem The gratious God of glories Diadem The true Astronomer that sees the Sunne And knowes that God from whome it takes his light And in the course the Moone and starres doe runne Findes the true guider of the day and night Longes but to see his onely blessed sight Who Sunne and Moone and stars their brightnes giues And in whose face all brightnesse glorie liues The Mariner that oft hath past the Seas And in his perils seene the power of God Whose onely mercie doth the stormes appease And bringes the Shippe vnto his wished Road Will neuer longe on earth to make abode But in the heauens to see that blessed hande That at his becke so rules both Sea and Land The Marchant that hath cast within his minde How much the spirits gaine the flesh surmounts And by his faith in mercies loue doth finde The ioyfull summe of such a soules accounts As to saluation of the whole amounts Will leaue the world but on Christes face to looke VVhich all the faithfull make their liuing Booke The Farmer that hath felt his neighbours neede And found how God and charitie are one And knowes there is a better kinde of feede Then grasse or Corne or flesh or bloud or bone VVill wish himselfe from his worlds treasure gone Vpon those ioyes to feede in mercies blisse VVhere Christ his presence is heauens Paradise The true Phisitian that doth knowe the natures And dispositions of each Element And knowes that God created hath all Creatures Beneath and eke aboue the Firmament And ouer all hath onely Gouernment VVill onely long that glorious God to know That giues the sicknesse and doth cure it so The soules Musitian that doth finde the ground Of truest Musique but in God his grace VVill thinke all singing but an idle sound VVhere God his praise hath not the highest place And onely longes to see that blessed face VVhich makes the Virgins Saints and Angels sing An Halleluiah to their heauenly King The Preacher that doth in his soule beleeue The word of God which to the world he teacheth And in his spirit inwardly doth greeue He cannot liue so heauenly as he preacheth VVhile faith no further then to mercie reacheth VVould wish in soule to leaue his Benefice To make himselfe to Christ a Sacrifice The Politician that hath plotted much In worldly matters greatly to his gaine Will finde if God doe once his spirit tuch Zacheus heart will haue another vaine To clime aloft and to come downe againe And leaue all plots to come but to that place Where he might see sweete Iesus in the face Th' Artificer that hath a worke in hand And feeles the grace of God within his heart And by the same doth surely vnderstand How God alone perfecteth euerie part And onely is the giuer of all Art Will gladly leaue his worke and longe to be Where he might Christ his soules worke-maister see The Painter that doth paint a daintie Image So neere the life as may be to the same And makes an Asse vnto an Owle doe homage While shadowes bringe the senses out of frame If God his heart once with his loue enflame His Pictures all will vnder foote be trod And he will longe but for the liuing God The Trauailer that walkes the world about And sees the glorious workes of God on high If God his grace once kindly finde him out And vnto heauen doe lift his humble eye His soule in faith will such perfections spie That leauing all that he on earth can see His loue will long but with the Lord to be The Churle that neuer chaunc't vpon a thought Of charitie nor what belonges thereto If God his grace haue once his spirit brought To feele what good the faithfull almers doe The loue of Christ will so his spirit wooe That he will leaue Barnes corne and bagges of Coine And land and life with Iesus loue to ioyne Thus from the Prince vnto the poorest state Who seemes to liue as voide of reasons sense If God once come who neuer comes too late And touch the soule with his sweet Quintessence Of mercies gratious glorious patience His soule will leaue what euer it doth loue And long to liue but with the Lord aboue Now to the tenure of that longing time That louing spirits thinke too long will last The maide new maried in her pregnant prime Longes till the time of fortie weekes be past And blameth time he makes no greater hast Till in her armes she sweetly haue receiu'd Her Comfortes fruite within her wombe conceiu'd Thus fortie weekes she labours all in loue And at the last doth trauaile all in paine But shortly after doth such comfort prooue As glads her heart and makes all whole againe So in her Infants pretty smiling vaine Pleasing her selfe that all her greefe is gone VVhen she may haue her babe to looke vpon Penelope at her deere loues departing In sober kindnesse did conceale her care Though in her heart she had that inward smarting That times continuance after did declare VVhere constant loue did shew without compare A perfect passion of true vertues vaine Longing but for Vlisses home againe How many yeeres the Storie doth set downe In which she felt the gall of absence greefe When constant faith on foule effects did frowne Which sought to be to charitie a theefe Of natures beautie the true honour cheefe Long languishing in absence cruell hell But when she saw his presence all is well But if I may in holy lines beginne To speake of Ioseph and his longing loue Vnto his brethren but to Beniamin To note the passion nature did approoue Which did such teares in his affection mooue That well from thence the Prouetbe sweet might spring The loue of Brethren is a blessed thing Well may I see the notes of natures griefe In absence of the obiect of affection And longing for the substance of reliefe In presence finde the life of loues perfection While eie and heart are led by one direction Yet all this while I doe not truely prooue The blessed longing of the spirits loue When Mary Magdalene so full of sinne As made her heart a harbour of ill thought Felt once the grace of God to enter in And driue them out that her destruction sought Her soule was then to Iesus loue so wrought As that with teares in true affect did proue The pleasing longing of the Spirits loue In griefe she went all weeping to his graue Longing to see him or
that is God All kinde of loue but this is but mistaken And all conceit but this is misconceiued All kinde of loue but this must be forsaken All trust but in this trueth may be deceiued All in this loue all trueth may be perceiued All hearts beliefe and all soules seale vnto it All what is good this loue doeth onely doe it What shall I say but t is beyond my saying To tell you all may of this loue be sayd And yet that trueth be free from all betraying That hath no more then what she knowes bewray'd Let me but stay but where as shee hath staid And say but this as I haue said before That loue is God and I can say no more Solus Amor Deus Solus in toto laudandus Deus OH blessed loue the life of blessednesse If euer thou diddest â—elpe a sinners heart Behold my teares and in thy holynesse Assist my spirit with thy sacred Art That al the world may ioy to heare me sing The holy praises of my heauenly King Inspire me with that vnderstanding power Which may conceiue and by desert commend The toppe of truth on that triumphant Tower Where graces dwell and glories neuer end Let some such Angell helpe me in deuising As speakes of praise in glories euer rising Oh loue how gratious is that beautie held That giues the world but shadowes to behold But oh what glorie maist thou iustly yeeld Vnto that life which doth thy life vnfold And while all shadowes fade and fall away Is euer bright and neuer can decay In natures beautie all the best can be Are shadowing colours to deceiue the eye But in this beautie may our spirits see A light wherein we liue and cannot die A light whereby we see that most auailes vs The comfort of our faith that neuer failes vs. How bountifull is that faire hand accounted That of his store a little stinte bestoweth But how in bountie hath that hand surmounted That euer giuing asking ouer-goeth And for no gift shall in true grace be scanting Doth giue it selfe to see no comfort wanting How wise is he that teacheth how to wielde The world at will by wicked wits deuise But wiser much that findes that wit beguil'd That neuer seekes the way to Paradise Oh blessed loue none but thy Lord of light Doth giue the soule that perfect heauenly light How kinde is he that doth his friend relieue In time of need of worldly mindes reputed But he that helpes the heart that him doth grieue To such a minde what praise may bee imputed How kinde is then our Christ let his death trie Who hated sinne yet did for sinners die How valiant is hee held that can subdue By force of hand the furie of his foe But in whose hand such valour euer grewe As gaue both death and hell their ouerthrow None but thy Lord my loue that God of light Who makes all powers to tremble at his sight How patient is that poore conceit esteem'd That can put vp a wrong or crosse or two But how more patient may our Christ be deem'd That bare all wrongs that all the world could doe Oh peerelesse paterne of true patience power That conquerd death in passions dying houre How iust is he who as the Law doth beare The likeliest trueth his iudgement doth pronounce But how more iuste whom neither hope nor feare Could euer mooue to challenge or denounce Sweet Iesus Christ who neuer Caesar wrongeth And giues to God that vnto God belongeth How gracious is that creature to be thought That doeth repent him of his wickednesse But how more gracious in whom God hath wrought The perfect height of Graces holinesse It is thy life my loue our Lord and God Who by his Grace all sinne hath ouer-trod How comfortable is esteemd that hand That heales the sicke although not neere to death But what more comfort in that power doeth stand Then to the dead can giue a liuing breath My loue thou knowest that Lazarus can tell When Maries teares did please our master well What should I in particulars proceed When all and summe that heauen and earth can show Are short to finde how farre he doeth exceede The praise of prayse where highest prayses goe But worship him in whom all Graces liue Worthy more glory then the world can giue And since my God and euerliuing Lord All in himselfe all height of glory holdeth And to the faithfull onely doeth affoord No more to know them mercies care vnfoldeth Let my soules loue but humbly fall before him In admiration wholly to adore him For beauty bounty wisedome valour kindnesse Grace patience comfort iustice trueth perfection In whom all these doe liue what reasons blindnesse Can thinke to reach in prayses due perfection VVhere in the height to haue all glory sounded Both heau'ns and earth and Angels are confounded And since farre more then most that can be thought Liues in the light of his incomprehension Which neuer sense that euer proudly sought But perisht in the instant of intention Ler my soule sing when all hearts strings are broken His prayse is more then can in praise be spoken Gloria in excelsis Deo When the Angels all are singing All of glorie euer springing In the ground of high heauens graces Where all vertues haue their places Oh that my poore soule were neere them With an humble heart to heare them Then should faith in loues submission Ioying but in mercies blessing Where that sinnes are in remission Sing the ioyfull soules confessing Of her comforts high commending All in glorie neuer ending But ah wretched sinfull creature How should the corrupted nature Of this wicked heart of mine Thinke vpon that loue diuine That doth tune the Angels voices While the hoast of heauen reioyces No the songe of deadly sorrowe In the night that hath no morrow And their paines are neuer ended That haue heauenly powers offended Is more fitting to the merite Of my foule infected spirite Yet while mercie is remoouing All the sorrowes of the louing How can faith be full of blindnesse To despaire of mercies kindnesse While the hand of heauen is giuing Comfort from the euerliuing No my soule be no more sorie Looke vnto that life of glorie Which the grace of faith regardeth And the teares of loue rewardeth Where the soule the comfort getteth That the Aungels musique setteth There when thou art well conducted And by heauenly grace instructed How the faithfull thoughtes to fashion Of a rauisht louers passion Sing with sainctes to Aungels nighest Halleluiah in the highest Gloria in excelsis Deo
AN Excellent Poeme vpon the longing of a blessed heart which loathing the world doth long to be with Christ. With an Addition vpon the definition of loue Compiled by Nicholas Breton Gentleman Cupio dissolui esse cum Christo. Imprinted at London for Iohn Browne and Iohn Deane 1601. To the Right Honourable my singular good Lord the Fauourer of all good Studies and Louer of all vertues the Lord North Nicholas Breton wisheth encrease of honour continuance of health and eternall happinesse RIght Honourable knowing the nature of men so different that it is hard for one to speak of all the delightes of the most part of the world so farre from longing after heauen that if the mercie of God were not the greater the Diuell woulde make too great a Haruest on the Earth sorrie to see the dispositions of the wicked and wishing the number of the vertuous were encreased among the which if I might without flatterie speake a truth I should note your Honor for a kinde of Phoenix among men I haue vpon my knowledge of your worthynesse in the good regard of all well disposed Spirits presumed out of the humble Meditations of no worldly minde to present your Honour with a little volume of the vaine delightes of the worldly and the better longinges of the godly In which I am perswaded when your Honour hath noted what is loue and what is worth the louing you wil loue me nothing the worse for my loues longing But leauing to your honourable discretion the liking of my soules labour and commaundement of my hearts loue in the humilitie of affectionate seruice I rest Your Honours in all humble and bounden duetie Nicholas Breton To the Reader IF you loue your selfe or like to bee loued it were good you did first know what loue is where it is to be sought and how to be had which in this little lesson following you may happe to hit on For if you mistake the matter as many haue done that set their wittes a woll-gathering vpon the backe of a Woodcocke in thinking loue to be either nothing or at least as little worth or such a kinde of Riddle as is scarcely worth the reading you may happe either neuer finde what it is repent the seeking or not care for the hauing of it or standing in your owne light be but little beloued for your lost labour But if with the eye of a carefull heart you will looke into the loue of the soule there I would be glad to see you longing and wish you hauing not to trouble you with more words then matter the loue of God you to loue me as I doe you and God to loue vs all and so I end Yours in the loue of charitie Nicholas Breton TWo hopefull Twinnes ioynt issues of one braine A Rauisht Soule and longing Spirit sends Into your bosomes high and heauenly traine That are wits kinsemen and the Muses friends Embrace them loue them and with iudgements view Eye them Beleeue me Reader thou shalt finde Their limmes well measur'd and proportions true 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 Angellicke skies Plaine is their habite yet Diuine and sweete Fit for the wise but for the wisest meete H. T. Gent. Ad Librum GOe Booke and balke those eyes That loue but shadowes sightes And let them gape for flyes That make but Buzzards flights And tell the humble heart That longes in better loue To him thou wilt impart Thy spirits Turtle doue Whose flesh the soule doth feed With that eternall sweet Wherein hearts eies may reed How life and loue doe meet To make the blessed see The loue that longeth best And what those longinges bee VVhose loue is neuer blest That loue not misconceiu'd in thought May neuer longe for that is nought Bretons Longing WHat life hath he that neuer thinkes of Loue And what such loue but hath a special liking And what such liking but wil seeke to proue The best to find the comfort of his seeking But while fond thoughts in follies packe are peeking Better conceited wittes may easely finde The truest wealth that may enrich the minde But since the difference twixt the good and bad Is easely seene in notes of their delightes And that those notes are needefull to be had To see whose eyes are of the clearest sights Whose are the dayes and whose may be the nightes From the poore Crowch vnto the Princely Crowne I will the difference as I finde set downe The worldly Prince longes to encrease his State To conquer Kingdomes and to weare their Crownes A foraine power by forces to abate To make but foot-stooles of their fairest Townes And hates the spirits of those home-made Clownes That will not venter life for Victorie But yet forgets that God should haue the glorie The worldly Councellour doth beat his braines How to aduise his Soueraigne for the best And in his place doth take continuall paines To keepe his Prince in such a pleasing rest That he may still be leaning on his breast Thinking his happe vnto a heauen so wrought But yet perhaps God is not in his thought The Souldier he delighteth all in Armes To see his colours in the field display'd And longes to see the yssue of those harmes That may reueale an enemie dismay'd A Fort defeated or a Towne betray'd And still to be in action day and night But little thinkes on God in all the fight The worldly Scholler loues a world of Bookes And spends his life in many an idle line Meane while his heart to heauen but little lookes Nor loues to thinke vpon a thought diuine These thoughtes of ours alas so lowe encline VVe seeke to know what nature can effect But vnto God haue small or no respect The Poet with his fictions and his fancies Pleaseth himselfe with humorous inuentions VVhich well considered are a kinde of franzies That carie little truth in their intentions While wit and reason falling at contentions Make wisedome finde that follies strong illusion Bringes wit and senses wholly to confusion The worldly Lawyer studyeth right and wronge But how he iudgeth there the question lyes For if you looke for what his loue doth long It is the profite of his plea doth rise There is the worldly Lawyers Paradise He neither longes the right nor wrong to see But to be fingring of the golden fee. The Cosmographer doth the world suruey The hils and dales the nookes and little crookes The woods the plaines the high and the by-way The Seas the Riuers and the little brookes All these he findes within his compast bookes And with his needle makes his measure euen But all this whlie he doth not thinke of heauen Th'Astronomer standes staring on the Skie And will not haue a thought beneath a starre But by his speculation doth espie A world of woonder comming from
afarre And tels of times and natures peace and warre Of Mars his sword and Mercury his Rod But all this while he little thinkes on God The worldly Marchant ventreth farre and neere And shunnes nor Land nor Sea to make a gaine Thinkes neither trauaile care nor cost too deere If that his profite counteruaile his paine While so his minde is on the getting vaine That if his Shippe doe safely come on shore Gold is his God and he desires no more The worldly Courtier learnes to crouch and creepe Speake faire waite close obserue his time and place And wake and watch and scarcely catch a sleepe Till he haue got into some fauours grace And will all cunning in his course embrace That may vnto Authoritie aduance But if he thinke of God it is a chaunce The worldly Farmer fils his Barnes with Corne And ploughes and sowes and digges and delues hedges Lookes to his Cattell will not lose a horne Fels downe his woods and fals vnto his wedges And grindes his Axes and doth mend their edges And deerely sels that he good cheape hath bought But all the while God is not in his thought The Sayler he doth by his compasse stand And weies his anchors and doth hoyse his sayles And longes for nothing but to get on land VVhile many a storme his starting spirite quailes And feare of Pirats his poore heart assayles But once on shore carowse and casts off feare Yet scarcely thinkes on God that set him there The worldly Preacher talkes of Sacrifice Of Sacraments and holy Mysteries Meane while hee longes but for the Benefice That should preserue his purse from beggeries Because hee loues no worldly miseries For many a Preacher that Gods word hath taught Shewes by his life God liues not in his thought The worlds Phisitian that in sicknesse tries The nature of the hearbes and Minerals And in his simples and his compounds spies Which way to make the Patients funerals Or profite by his Cures in generals Longes but to see how long they may endure But scarcely thinkes on God in all the Cure The worlds Musitian that doth tune his voice Vnto such notes as Musiques skill hath set Whose heart doth in the harmonie reioyce Where pleasing Consorts are most kindely met But still perhaps his spirit doth forget In all his himnes and songes and sweetest layes To thinke of God or of his worthy prayse The Polititian hath a world of plots In which his spirit hath his speciall spyes Ties and vnties a Thousand sundrie knots In which the substance of his studie lyes And many trickes his close experience tryes How to deceiue the world with many a wile But neuer thinkes on God in all the while The Trauailer delighteth in the view Of change and choise of sundrie kinde of creatures To marke the habites and to note the hew Of farre borne people and their sundrie natures Their shapes their speech their gates their lookes their features And longes abroade to make his lifes abode Yet happ'ly neuer longes to be with God The Painter in his colours takes delight And neere the life to make the liuelyhood While onely shadowes doe deceiue the sight That take such pleasure in a peece of wood But doth not long for that same liuing food Which neither eye hath seene nor heart conceiu'd The God of truth that neuer soule deceiu'd The Louer he but on his Ladie thinketh And how to catch her in a kinde content And lookes and leeres and trowles the eie and winketh And seekes how thoughtes in silence may bee sent And longes to see the end of his intent And thinkes himselfe a King to get a kisse But where is God in all these thoughtes of his Th' Artificer that hath a worke to doe And bringes his hand vnto his heads deuise Longes till he see what it will come vnto And how his paines haue profite in the price And hauing cast it ouer twise or thrice Ioyes in his heart but scarcely hath a thought To thanke his God that him the cunning taught The Churle that sits and champes vpon his chaffe And will not stirre a foote from his Barne floure Except it be among his bagges to laugh He can the poore so with his purse deuoure Longes but to vse the poyson of his power T' enrich himselfe to bringe a world to naught Shewes that God neuer dwels within his thought As for those beggerly conditions Of basest trades that like to miry hogges Doe shewe their spirites dispositions In digging with their noses vnder logges For slime and wormes or like to rauening dogges Longe but for that which doth the belly fill Most of them thinke on God against their will These are the worldlinges and their worlds delightes Whose longing God knowes is not worth the louing These are the obiects of those euill sights That vertue hath from her faire eyes remoouing These are the passions of corruptions proouing But they that loue and long for God his sight In worldly trifles neuer take delight The Prince annointed with the oyle of grace Who sits with mercie in the seate of peace Will long to see his Sauiour in the face And all his right into his handes release Whose onely sight would make all sorrow cease And lay both Crowne and Kingdome at his feete But of his presence to enioy the sweete The Councellour with heauenly grace inspir'd Where wisdome guides the lineaments of wit Although he hath to honours place aspir'd His heart doth shew it longes not after it His loue desires a higher marke to hitte For while he leaneth on his Princes breast His longing is but with his God to rest The Courtier that is once in God his grace What euer countenance in the Court he beares His heart aspireth to a better place Which humble loue doth long for with those teares Which all too naught the pride of pleasure weares And neuer rests vntill his God he see With whome his soule in loue doth long to be The Souldier that hath fought the spirits fight Will put off warre and long to liue in peace And not in discord but concord delight VVhere gracious kindenesse makes all quarrels cease VVhile patience doth all passions so appease That he shall finde that Souldiour onely blest Whose faith in God doth set his soule at rest The Lawyer that hath read the Lawes of God And in his heart is touched with his loue And knowes the smart of the supernall Rod Will one day worke for silly soules behoue Who haue their comfort in the heauens aboue VVill leaue all golden fees to see the grace That mercies iustice shewes in Iesus face The Scholler that beginnes with Christ his crosse And seekes good speede but in the holy Ghost Findes by his booke that siluer is but drosse And all his labour in his studie lost Where faith of mercie cannot sweetly boast And loue doth long for any other blisse Then what in God and in his grace is And such a Poet as the Psalmist