Selected quad for the lemma: spirit_n
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A10260
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A feast for vvormes Set forth in a poeme of the history of Ionah. By Fra. Quarles.
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Quarles, Francis, 1592-1644.
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1620
(1620)
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STC 20544; ESTC S115474
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43,861
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108
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Maids of Honor All following close and duly wayting on her But Sin that alwaies enui'd mans Condition Within this kingdome raised vp Diuision Withdrawne mans Will and brib'd his false Affection That This no order hath nor That Election The Will proues traitor to the Vnderstanding Reason hath lost her power and left commanding She 's quite depos'd and put to foule disgrace And Tyrant Will vsurps her Empty place ¶ Vouchsafe Lord in this little World of mine To raigne that I may raigne with Thee in thine And since my will is quite of good bereauen Thy will be done in earth as 't is in heauen 6 ¶ WHo liue to sin they all are theeues to Heauen And Earth They steale frō God take vngiuen Good men they rob and such as liue vpright And being bastards share the free-mans Right They 're all as owners in the owners stead And like to Dogs deuoure the childrens bread They haue and lack and want what they possesse They 're most vnhappy in their most happinesse They are not goods but riches that thou hast And not be'ng goods to eu'ls they turne at last ¶ Lord what I haue let me enioy in thee And thee in it or else take it from mee My store or want make thou or fade or flourish So shall my comforts neither change nor perish That little I enioy Lord make it mine In making me that am a Sinner thine 'T is thou or none that shall supply my need O Lord Giue vs this day our daily bread 7 ¶ THe quick-conceited Schoole-men well approue A difference 'twixt Charitie and Loue Loue is a vertue whereby we explaine Our selues to God and God to vs againe But Charity 's imparted to our Brother Whereby we traffick one man with another The first extends to God The last belongs To man In giuing right and bearing wrongs In number they are twaine In vertue One For one not truly being t' others none ¶ In louing God if I neglect my Neighbour My loue hath lost his proofe and I my labour My Zeale my Faith my Hope that neuer failes me If Charitie be wanting nought auailes me ¶ Lord in my Soule a spirit of Loue create me And I will loue my Brother if he hate me In nought but loue le ts me enuy my betters And then Forgiue my debts as I may detters 8 ¶ I Finde a true resemblance in the growth Of Sin and Man Alike in breeding both The Soul 's the Mother and the Diuell Syer Who lusting long in mutuall hot desier Enioy their wils and ioyne in Copulation The Seed that fils her wombe is foule Tentation The sinnes Conception is the Soules Consent And then it quickens when it giues content The birth of Sin is finisht in the action And Custome brings it to its full perfection ¶ O let my fruitlesse Soule be barren rather Then bring foorth such a Child for such a Father Or if my Soule breed Sin not being wary O let it either dye or else miscarry She is thy Spouse O Lord doe thou aduise her Keepe thou her chaste Let not the Fiend entice her Trie thou my heart Thy Trials bring Saluation But let me not be led into Temptation 9 ¶ FOrtune that blind supposed Goddesse is Still rated at if ought succeed amisse 'T is she the vaine abuse of Prouidence That beares the blame when others make th' offence When this mans barne finds not her wonted store Fortune's condemn'd because she sent no more If this man dye or that man liue too long Fortune's accus'd and she hath done the wrong Ah foolish Dolts and like your Goddesse blind You make the fault and call your Saint vnkind For when the cause of Eu'll begins in Man Th' effect ensues from whence the cause began Then know the reason of thy discontent The eu'll of Sinne makes Eu'll of punishment ¶ Lord hold me vp or spurre me when I fall So shall my Eu'll be iust or not at all Defend me from the World the Flesh the Deuill And so thou shalt deliuer me from Euill 10 ¶ THe Priestly skirts of A'rons holy coate I kisse and to my morning Muse deuote Had neuer King in any age or Nation Such glorious Robes set foorth in such a fashion With Gold and Gemmes and Silks of Princely Dye And Stones befitting more then Maiestie The Persian Sophies and rich Shaeba's Queene Had ne'r the like nor e'r the like had seene Vpon the skirts in order as they fell First a Pomegranat was and then a Bell By each Pomegranat did a Bell appeare Many Pomegranats many Bels there were Pomegranats nourish Bels doe make a sound As blessings fall Thanksgiuings must abound ¶ If thou wilt clothe my heart with A'rons tyer My tongue shall praise as well as heart desier My tongue and pen shall dwell vpon thy Story O Lord for thine is Kingdome Power Glory ¶ THe Ancient Sophists that were so precise And often-times perchance too curious nice Auerre that Nature hath bestow'd on Man Three perfect Soules When this I truly scan Me thinks their Learning swath'd in Errour lyes They were not wise enough and yet too wise Too curious wise because they mention more Then one Not wise enough because not foure Nature not Grace is Mistres of their Schooles Grace counts them wisest that are veriest Fooles Three Soules in man Grace doth a fourth allow The Soule of Faith But this is Greeke to you 'T is Faith that makes man truly wise 'T is Faith Makes him possesse that thing he neuer hath ¶ This Glorious Soule of Faith bestow on mee O Lord or else take thou the other three Faith makes men lesse then Children more then Men It makes the Soule crie Abba and Amen FINIS PENTELOGIA Or THE QVINTESSENCE OF MEDITATION Mors tua Mors Christi Fraus Mundi Gloria Coeli Et Dolor Inferni sunt meditanda tibi Thy Death the Death of Christ the Worlds Tentation Heauens Ioy Hells Torment be thy Meditation AT LONDON Imprinted by Felix Kyngston for Richard Moore and are to be sold at his shop in Saint Dunstans Church-yard 1620. Mors tua 1 ¶ ME thinks I see the nimble-aged Syre Passe by amaine with feete vnapt to tyre Vpon his head an Hower-glasse he weares And in his wrinkled hand a Sithe he beares Both Instruments to take the liues from Men Th' one shewes with what the other sheweth when Me thinkes I heare the Dolefull Passing-bell Setting an onset to his lowder knell This moody musick of impartiall Death Who daunces after daunces out of breath Me thinkes I see my dearest friends lament With sighs and teares and wofull dryriment My tender Wife and Children standing by Dewing the Death-bed whereupon I lye Me thinkes I heare a Voyce in secret say Thy Glasse is runne and thou must dye to day Mors Christi 2 ¶ ANd am I here and my Redeemer gone Can He be dead and is not my life done Was he tormented in excesse of measure And doe I
are Of sumptuous beautie and of glorious show Let him disrobe and put on sackcloth too The Oxe ordain'd for yoke the Asse for load The Horse as well for race as for the road The burthen-bearing Cammell strong and great The fruitfull Kine and eu'ry kind of Neate Let all put sackcloth on and spare no voyce But crie amaine to heau'n with mightie noyse Let all men turne the Byas of their wayes And change their fiercer hands to force of praise For who can tell if God whose angrie face Hath long bin wayning from vs will embrace This slender pittance of our best endeuour Who knowes if God will his intent perseuer Or who can tell if He whose tender loue And mercy ' extends his Iudgements farre aboue Will change his high Decree and turne his sentence Vpon a timely and vnfain'd Repentance And who can tell if God will change the lot That we and ours may liue and perish not So God perceiu'd their works and saw their wayes Approu'd the faith that in their works did blaze Approu'd their works approu'd their works the rather Because their faith and works went both together He saw their faith because their faith abounded He saw their works because on faith they grounded H' approu'd their faith because their faith was true H' approu'd their works because on faith they grew He saw their faith and works and so relented H◠approu'd their faith and works and so repented Repented of the plagues they apprehended Repented of the Euill that he intended So God the vengeance of his hand with-drew He tooke no forfeiture although 't were due The Euill that once he meant he now forgot Cancell'd the forfeit bond and did it not Meditatio decima ¶ LO into what an ebbe of low estate The Soule that seekes to be regenerate Must first decline Before the Ball rebound It must be throwne with force against the ground The Seed cannot encrease in fruitfull eares Nor can she reare the goodly stalke she beares Vnlesse bestrow'd vpon a mould of earth And made more glorious by a second birth So fares with Man Before he can bring forth The braue exploits of truly noble Worth Or hope the granting of his sinnes remission He must be humbl'd first in sad contrition The plant through want of skill or by neglect If it be planted from the Sunnes reflect Or lack the dew of seasonable showres Decayes and beareth neither Fruit or Flowres So wretched Man if his repentance hath No quickning Sunne-shine of a liuely Faith Or not bedew'd with show'rs of timely teares Or works of mercy wherein Faith appeares His pray'rs and deeds and all his forged grones Are like the howles of Dogs and works of Drones The skilfull Surgeon first by letting blood Weakens his Patient ere he does him good Before the Soule can a true comfort finde The Body must be prostrate and the Minde Truly repentiue and contrite within And loath the fawning of a bosome Sin But Lord Can MAN deserue Or can his Best Doe Iustice equall right which he transgrest When Dust and Ashes mortally offends Can Dust and Ashes make Eternall mends Is Heau'n vniust Must not the Recompence Be full Equiualent to the Offence What mends by mortall Man can then be giu'n To the offended Maiestie of heau'n O Mercie Mercie on thee my Soule relyes On thee we build our Faith we bend our eyes Thou fill'st my empty straine thou fil'st my tongue Thou art the subiect of my Swan-like song Like pinion'd pris'ners at the dying Tree Our lingring hopes attend and wayte on thee Arraign'd at Iustice barre preuent our doome To thee with ioyfull hearts we cheerely come Thou art our Clergie Thou that dearest Booke Wherein our fainting eyes desire to looke In thee we trust to reade what will release vs In bloudy Caracters that name of IESVS ¶ What shall we then returne to God of Heau'n Where nothing is Lord nothing can be giu'n Our soules our bodies strength and all our pow'rs Alas were all too little were they ours Or shall we burne vntill our life expires An endlesse Sacrifice in Holy fires ¶ My Sacrifice shall be my HEART entire My Christ the Altar and my Zeale the Fire THE ARGVMENT The Prophet discontented prayes To God that he would end his dayes God blames his wrath so vnreprest Reproues his vnaduis'd Request Sect. 11. BVt this displeasing was in Iona's eyes His heart grew hot his blood began to rise His eyes did sparkle and his teeth struck fire His veines did boyle his heart was full of yre At last brake foorth into a strange request These words he pray'd and mumbl'd out the rest Was not O was not this my thought O Lord Before I fled Nay was not this my Word The very Word that these my lips had shaped When this mis-hap mought well haue bin escaped Was there O was there not a iust suspect My preaching would procuer this effect For loe I knew of old they tender loue I knew the pow'r thou gau'st my Tongue would moue Their Adamantine hearts I knew 't would thaw Their frozen spirits and breed relenting awe I knew moreo're vpon their true repentance That thou determin'dst to reuerse thy sentence For lo I knew thou wert a Gracious God Of long forbearance slow to vse the Rod I knew the power of thy Mercies bent The strength of all thy other works out-went I knew thy tender kindnes and how loth Thou wert to punish and how slow to wrath Turning thy Iudgements and thy plagues preuenting Thy mind reuersing and of Eu'll repenting Therefore O therefore through this perswasion I fled to Tarsish there to make euasion To saue thy credit Lord to saue mine owne For when this blast of zeale is ouer-blowne And sackloth left and they left off to mourne When they like dogs shall to their vomit turne They 'l vilipend thy sacred Word and scoffe it Saying Was that a God or this a Prophet They 'l scorne thy Iudgements thy threats despise And call thy Prophets Messengers of lyes Now therefore Lord bow downe attentiue eare For lo my burthen's more then I can beare Make speed O Lord and banish all delayes T' extinguish now the tapour of my dayes Let not the minutes of my time extend But let my wretched howers find an end Let not my fainting sprite thus long aby In her fraile mansion of mortality The thrid's but weake my life depends vpon O cut that thrid and let my life be done My brest stands faire O strike and strike againe For nought but dying can asswage my paine For liefer 'tis to dye then liue in shame For better 't is to leaue and yeeld the game Then toyle for what at length must needs be lost O kill me for my heart is sore imbost This latter boone vnto thy seruant giue For better 't is for me to dye then liue So wretched Ionah But Iehoua thus What boot's it so to storme out-ragious Does it become