Without a tenter It is a vast Circumference where none Can find a Center Of more then earth can earth make none possest And he that least Regards this restlesse world shall in this world find rest 5 True rest consists not in the oft revying Of worldly drosse Earths miâ—…ie purchase is not worth the buying Her gain is losse Her rest but giddy toil if not relying Upon her crosse How worldlings droil for trouble That fond breast That is possest Of earth without a crosse has earth without a rest CASS. in Ps. The Crosse is the invincible sanctuary of the humble The dejection of the proud the victory of Christ the destruction of the devil the confirmation of the faithfull the death of the unbeliever the life of the just DAMASCEN The Crosse of Christ is the key of Paradise the weak mans staff the Converts convoy the upright mans perfection the soul and bodies health the prevention of all evil and the 〈◊〉 of all good EPIG. 6. Worldlings whose whimpring folly holds the losses Of honour pleasure health and wealth such crosses Look here and tell me what your Arms engrosse When the best end of what ye hug's a crosse VII 1. PETER 5. 8. Be sober be vigilant because your adversary the devil as a roring Lion walketh about seeking whom he may devoure 1 WHy dest thou suffer lustfull sloth to creep Dull Cyprian lad into thy wanton browes Is this a time to pay thine idle vowes At Morpheus shrine Is this a time to sleep Thy brains in wastfull slumbers up and rouze Thy leaden spirits Is this a time to sleep Adjourn thy sanguine dreams Awake arise Call in thy thoughts and let them all advise Hadst thou as many Heads as thou hast wounded eyes 2 Look look what horrid furies do await Thy slatt'ring slumbers If thy drowzie head But chance to nod thou fall'st into a bed Of sulph'rous flames whose torments want a date Foâ—…d boy be wise let not thy thoughts be fed With Phrygian wisdome fools are wise too late Beware betimes and let thy reason sever Those gates which passion clos'd wake now or never For if thou nodd'st thou fall'st and falling fall'st for ever 3 Mark how the ready hands of death prepare His bow is bent and he has notch'd his dart He aims he levels at thy slumb'ring heart The wound is posting O be wise beware What has the voyce of danger lost the art To raise the spirit of neglected care Well sleep thy fill and take thy soft reposes But know withall sweet tasts have sowre closes And he repents in thorns that sleeps in beds of roses 4 Yet sluggard wake and gull thy soul no more With earths false pleasure and the worlds delight Whose fruit is fair and pleasing to the sight But sowre in tast false at the putrid core Thy flaring glasse is gems at her halflight She makes thee seeming rich but truly poore She boasts a kernell and bestowes a shell Performs an inch of her fair promis'd ell Her words protest a Heav'n her works produce a hell 5 O thou the fountain of whose better part Is earth'd and gravell'd up with vain desire That dayly wallow'st in the fleshly mire And base pollution of a lustfull heart That feel'st no passion but in wanton fire And own'st no torment but from Cupids dart Behold thy Type Thou sitst upon this ball Of earth secure while death that flings at all Stands arm'd to strike thee down where flames attend thy fall S. BERN. Securitie is no where It is neither in Heaven nor in Paradise much lesse in the world In Heaven the Angels sell from the divine presence in Paradise Adam sell from his place of pleasure in the world Judas sell from the School of our Saviour HUGO I eat secure I drink secure I sleep secure even as though I had past the day of death avoided the day of judgement and escaped the torments of hell-fire I play and laugh as though I were already triumphing in the kingdome of Heaven EPIG. 7. Get up my soul Redeem thy slavish eyes From drowzy bondage O beware Be wise Thy fo 's before thee thou must sight or flie Life lies most open in a closed eye VIII LUKE 6. 25. Woe be to you that laugh now for ye shall mourn and weep THe world 's a popular disease that reignes Within the froward heart and frantick brains Of poore distemper'd mortals oft arising From ill digestion through th' unequall poysing Of ill-weigh'd Elements whose light directs Malignant humours to maligne effects One raves and labours with a â—…oyling liver Rends hair by handfuls cursing Cupids quiver Another with a bloudy-slux of oaths Vowes deep revenge one dotes the other loathes One frisks and sings and vies a slagon more To drench dry cares and makes the welkin rore Another droops the sunshine makes him sad Heav'n cannot please One 's mop'd the tother 's mad One hugs his gold another lets it slie He knowing not for whom nor tother why One spends his day in plots his night in play Another sleeps and slugs both night and day One laughs at this thing tother cries for that But neither one nor tother knowes for what Wonder of wonders What we ought t' evite As our disease we hug as our delight 'T is held a symptome of approching danger When disacquainted Sense becomes a stranger And takes no knowledge of an old disease But when a noysome grief begins to please The unresisting sense it is a fear That death has parli'd and compounded there As when the dreadfull Thund'rers awfull hand Powres forth a vâ—…all on th' infected land At first th' affrighted Mortalls quake and fear And ev'ry noise is thought the Thunderer But when the frequent soul-departing bell Has pav'd their ears with her familiar knell It is reputed but a nine dayes wonder They neither fear the Thund'rer nor his Thunder So when the world a worse disease began To smart for sinne poore new-created Man Could seek for shelter and his gen'rous Sonne Knew by his wages what his hands had done But bold-fac'd Mortalls in our blushlesse times Can sinne and smile and make a sport of crimâ—… Transgresse of custome and rebell in ease We false-joy'd fools can triumph in disease And as the carelesse Pilgrime being bit By the Tarantula begins a sit Of life concluding laughter wast our breath In lavish pleasure till we laugh to death HUGO de anima What profit is there in vain glory momentany mirth the worlds power the â—…leshes pleasure â—…ll riches noble descent and great desires Where is their laughter Where is their mirâ—…h Where their insolence their arrogance From how much joy to how much sadnesse After how much mirth how much misery From how great glory are they 〈◊〉 to how great torments What hath â—…allen to them may bâ—…fall thee because thou art a man Thou art of earth thou liveâ—…l of earth thou shalt return to earth Death expecteth thee every-where be wise therefore and expect death every-where
fruitfull grove To cool my palate and renew my sent For I am sick for I am sick of love These will revive my dry my wasted pow'rs And they will sweeten my unsav'ry houres Refresh me then with fruit and comfort me with flow'rs 3 O bring me apples to asswage that fire Which Aetna-like inflames my flaming breast Nor is it every apple I desire Nor that which pleases every palate best 'T is not the lasting Deuzan I require Nor yet the red-cheek'd Queening I request Nor that which first bethrewd the name of wife Nor that whose beauty caus'd the golden strife No no bring me an apple from the tree of life 4 Virgins tuck up your silken laps and fill ye With the fair wealth of Floras Magazine The purple violet and the pale-fac'd lilly The pancy and the organ colombine The flowring thyme the guilt-boul daffadilly The lowly pink the lofty eglentine The blushing rose the queen of flowers and best Of Floras beauty but above the rest Let Jesses sovereigne flower perfume my qualming breast 5 Haste Virgins haste for I lie weak and faint Beneath the 〈◊〉 of love why stand ye mute As if your silence neither car'd to grant Nor yet your language to deny my suit No key can lock the doore of my complaint Untill I smell this flower or tast that fruit Go Virgins seek this tree and search that how'râ—… O how my soul shall blesse that happy houre That brings to me such fruit that brings me such a flower GISTEN in cap. 2. Cant. Expos. 3. O happy sicknesse where the infirmitie is not to death but 〈◊〉 life that God may be glorified by it O happy sever that procedeth not from a consuming but a calcining sire O happy â—…emper wherein the soul relisheth no earthly things but onely savoureth divine nourishment S. BERN. Serm. 51. in Cant. By flowers understand faith by fruit good works As the flower or blossome is before the fruit so is saith before good works So neither is the fruit without the flower nor good works without faith EPIG. 2. Why apples O my soul Can they remove The pangs of grief or ease the flames of love It was that fruit which gave the first offence That sent him hither 〈◊〉 that remov'd him hence III. CANTICLES 2. 16. My beloved is mine and I am his He feedeth among the lillies 1 EV'n like two little bank-dividing brooks That wash the pebbles with their wanton streams And having rang'd and search'd a thousand nooks Meet both at length in silver-breasted Thames Where in a greater current they conjoyn So I my best-beloveds am so he is mine 2 Ev'n so we met and after long pursuit Ev'n so we joyn'd we both became entire No need for either to renew a suit For I was flax and he was flames of sire Our firm united souls did more then twine So I my best-beloveds am so he is mine 3 If all those glitt'ring Monarchs that command The servile quarters of this earthly ball Should tender in exchange their shares of land I would not change my fortunes for them all Their wealth is but a counter to my coin The world 's but theirs but my beloved's mine 4 Nay more If the fair Thespian Ladies all Should heap together their diviner treasure That treasure should be deem'd a price too small To buy a minutes lease of half my pleasure 'T is not the sacred wealth of all the nine Can buy my heart from him or his from being mine 5 Nor Time nor Place nor Chance nor Death can bow My least desires unto the least remove He 's firmly mine by oath I his by vow He 's mine by faith and I am his by love He 's mine by water I am his by wine Thus I my best-beloveds am thus he is mine 6 He is my Altar I his Holy Place I am his guest and he my living food I 'm his by penitence he mine by grace I 'm his by purchase he is mine by bloud He 's my supporting elm and I his vine Thus I my best-beloveds am thus he is mine 7 He gives me wealth I give him all my vows I give him songs he gives me length of dayes With wreaths of grace he crowns my conqu'ring brows And I his Temples with a crown of Praise Which he accepts as an ev'rlasting signe That I my best-beloveds am that he is mine S. AUGUST Manu cap. 24. O my soul stampt with the image of thy God love him of whom thou art so much beloved bend to him that boweth to thee seek him that seeketh thee Love thy lover by whose love thou art prevented being the cause of thy love Be carefull with those that are carefull want with those that want be clean with the clean and holy with the holy choose this sriend above all friends who when all are taken away remaineth onely faithfull to thee In the day of thy buriall when all leave thee he will not deceive thee but defend thee from the roaring Lions prepared for their prey EPIO. 3. Sing Hymen to my soul What lost and found Welcom'd espous'd enjoy'd so soon and crown'dâ—… He did but climb the Crosse and then came down 〈◊〉 gates of hell triumph'd and fetch'd a Crown IV. CANTICLES 7. 10. I am my Beloveds and his desire is towards me 1 LIke to the Artick needle that doth guide The wand'ring shade by his Magnetick pow'r And leaves his silken Gnomon to decide The question of the controverted houre First franticks up and down from side to side And restlesse beats his crystall'd Iv'ry case With vain impatience jets from place to place And seeks the bosome of his frozen bride At length he slacks his motion and doth rest His trembling point at his bright Poles beloved brest 2 Ev'n so my soul being hurried here and there By ev'ry object that presents delight Fain would be settled but she knowes not where She likes at morning what she loaths at night She bowes to honour then she lends an eare To that sweet swan-like voyce of dying pleasure Then tumbles in the scatter'd heaps of treasure Now flatter'd with false hope now foyl'd with fear Thus finding all the worlds delights to be But empty toyes good God she points alone to thee 3 But hath the virtued steel a power to move Or can the untouch'd needle point aright Or can my wandring thoughts forbear to rove Unguided by the virtue of thy spirit O hath my leaden soul the art t' improve Her wasted talent and unrais'd aspire In this sad moulting time of her desire Not first belov'd have I the power to love I cannot stirre but as thou please to move me Nor can my heart return thee love untill thou love me 4 The still Commandresse of the silent night Borrows her beams from her bright brothers eye His fair aspect filles her sharp horns with light If he withdraw her flames are quench'd and die Even so the beams of thy enlightning spirit Infus'd and shot into my dark desire
Bees do bring Honey in their mouths but in their tails a sting IV. PSALM 62. 9. To be laid in the ballance it is altogether lighter then vanitie 1 PUt in another weight 'T is yet too light And yet Fond Cupid put another in And yet another Still there 's under weight Put in another hundred Put agin Adde world to world then heap a thousand more To that then to renew thy wasted store Take up more worlds on trust to draw thy balance lower 2 Put in the flesh with all her loads of pleasure Put in great Mammons endlesse inventory Put in the pond'rous acts of mighty Cesar Put in the greater weight of Swedens glory Adde Sâ—…pio's gauntlet put in Plato's gown Put Circes charms put in the triple crown Thy balance will not draw thy balance will not down 3 Lord what a world is this which day and night Men seek with so much toyl with so much trouble Which weigh'd in equall scales is found so light So poorly over-balanc'd with a bubble Good God! that frantick mortals should destroy Their higher hopes and place their idle joy Upon such airy trash upon so light a toy 4 Thou bold Impostour how hast thou befool'd The tribe of Man with counterfeit dâ—…sire How has the breath of thy false bellows cool'd Heav'ns free-born flames and kindled bastard fire How hast thou vented drosse in stead of treasure And cheated man with thy false weights and measure Proclaiming bad for good and gilding death with pleasure 5 The world 's a craftie Strumpet most affecting And closely following those that most reject her But seeming carelesse nicely disrespecting And coyly flying those that most affect her If thou be free she 's strange if strange she 's free Flee and she follows Follow and she 'll flee Then she there 's none more coy there 's none more fond then she 6 O what a Crocodilian world is this Compos'd of treacheries and ensnaring wiles She cloaths destruction in a foâ—…mall kisse And lodges death in her deceitsull smiles She hugs the soul she hates and there does prove The veriest tyrant where she vowes to love And is a Serpent most when most she seems a Dove 7 Thrice happy he whose nobler thoughts despise To make an object of so easie gains Thrice happy he who scorns so poore a prize Should be the crown of his heroick pains Thrice happy he that ne'r was born to trie Her frowns or smiles or being born did lie In his sad nurses arms an houre or two and die S. AUGUST lib. Confess O you that dote upon this world for what victory do ye sight Your hopes can be crowned with no greater reward then the world can give and what is the world but a brittle thing full of dangers wherein we travel from lesser to greater perils O let all her vain light and momentany glory perish with her self and let us be conversant with more eternall things Alas this world is miserable life is short and death is sure EPIG. 4. My soul what 's lighter then a feather wind Then wind The fire And what then fire The mind What 's lighter then the mind A thought Then thought This bubble-world What then this bubble Nought V. 1. COR. 7. 31. The fashion of this world passeth away GOne are those golden dayes wherein Pale conscience started not at ugly sinne When good old Satuâ—…nes peacefull Throne Was unusurped by his beardlesse Son When jealous Ops ne'r fear'd th' abuse Of her chast bed or breach of nuptiall Truce When just Astraea poys'd her Scales In mortall hearts whose absence earth bewails When froth-born Venus and her brat With all that spurious brood young Jove begat In horrid shapes were yet unknowne Those Halcyon dayes that golden age is gone There was no Client then to wait The leisure of his long-tayl'd Advocate The Talion Law was in request And Chaunc'ry courts were kept in ev'ry brest Abused Statutes had no Tenters And men could deal secure without indentures There was no peeping hole to clear The Wittals eye from his incarnate fear There were no lustfull Cinders then To broyl the Carbonado'd hearts of men The rosie cheek did then proclaim A shame of Guilt but not a guilt of shame There was no whining soul to start At Cuâ—…ids twang or curle his flaming 〈◊〉 The Boy had then but callow wings And fell Erynnis Scorpions had no stings The better-acted world did move Upon the fixed poles of Truth and Love Love essenc'd in the hearts of men Then Reason rul'd there was no Passion then Till Lust and Rage began to enter Love the Circumference was and love the Center Untill the wanton dayes of Iove The simple world was all compos'd of Love But Iove grew fleshly false unjust Inferiour beautie sill'd his veins with lust And Cucquean Iuno's fury hurld Fierce balls of rage into th' incestuous world Astraea fled and love return'd From earth earth boyl'd with lust with rage it burn'd And ever since the world has been Kept going with the scourge of Lust and Spleen S. AMBROS. Lust is a sharp spur to vice which alwayes putteth the affections into a false gallop HUGO Lust is an immoderate wantonnesse of the slesh a sweet poyson a cruel 〈◊〉 a pernicious potion which weakeneth the body of man and esseminateth the strength of an heroick mind S. AUGUST Envy is the hatred of anothers felicitie in respect of Superiours because they are not equall to them in respect of Inseriours lest be should be equall to them in respect of equalls because they are equall to them Through envy proceeded the fall of the world and the death of Christ EPIG. 5. What Cupid must the world be lasht so soon But made at morning and be whipt at noon 'T is like the wagge that playes with Venus Doves The more 't is lasht the more perverse it proves VI ECCLES. 2. 17. All is vanitie and vexation of spirit 1 HOw is the anxious soul of man befool'd In his desire That thinks an Hectick sever may be cool'd In stames of fire Or hopes to rake full heaps of burnisht gold From nasty mire A whining Lover may as well request A scornfull breast To melt in gentle tears as woo the world for rest 2 Let wit and all her studied plots effect The best they can Let smiling Fortune prosper and perfect What wit began Let earth advise with both and so project A happy man Let wit or fawning Fortune vie their best He may be blest With all that earth can give but earth can give no rest 3 Whose gold is double with a carefull hand His cares are double The pleasure honour wealth of sea and land Bring but a trouble The world it self and all the worlds command Is but a bubble The strong desites of mans insâ—…tiate breast May stand possest Of all that earth can give but earth can give no rest 4 The world 's a seeming Par'dise but her own And mans tormenter Appearing sixt yet but a rolling stone
Let Hymens easie snarles be quite forgot Time cannâ—…t quench our â—…ites nor death dissolve our knot ORIG. Hom. 10. in divers O most holy Lord and sweetest Master how good art thou to those that are of upright heart and humble spirit O how blessed are they that seek thee with a simple heart How happy that trust in thee It is a most certain truth that thou lovest all that love thee and never forsakest those that trust in thee For behold thy Love simply sought thee and undoubtedly found thee She trusted in thee and is not forsaken of thee but hath obtained more by thee then she expected from thee BEDA in cap. 3. Cant. The longer I was in finding whom I sought the more earnestly I held him beâ—…ng found EPIG. 12. What found him out let strong embraces bind him He 'll fly perchance where tears can never find him New sinnes will lose what old repentance gains Wisedome not onely gets but got retains XIII PSALM 72. 28. It is good for me to draw near to God I have put my trust in the Lord God WHere is that Good which wisemen please to call The Chiefest Doth there any such befall Within mans reach Or is there such a Good at all If such there be it neither must expire Nor change then which there can be nothing higher Such Good must be the utter point of mans desire It is the Mark to which all hâ—…arts must tend Can be desired for no other end Then for it self on which all other goods depend What may this Excellence be doth it subsist A reall Essence clouded in the midst Of cuâ—…ious Art or clear to ev'ry eye that list Or is 't a tart Idea to procure An edge and keep the practick soul in ure Like that dear Chymick dust or puzzling Quadrature Where shall I seek this Good where shall I find This Cath'lick pleasure whose extremes may bind My thoughts and fill the gulf of my insatiate mind Lies it in Treasure In full heaps untold Doth gowty Mammous griping hand infold This secret Saint in sacred shrines of sov'reigne gold No no she lies not there wealth often sowrs In keeping makes us hers in seeming ours She slides from Heav'n indeed but not in Danat's showrs Lives she in honour no The royall Crown Builds up a creature and then batters down Kings raise thee with a smile and raze thee with a frown In pleasure no Pleasure begins in rage Acts the fools part on earths uncertain stage Begins the Play in youth and Epilogues in age These these are bastard-goods the best of these Torment the soul with pleasing it and please Like water gulp'd in fevers with deceitfull ease Earths flatt'ring dainties are but sweet distresses Mole-hils perform the mountains she professes Alas can earth confer more good then earth possesses Mounâ—… mount my soul and let thy thoughts cashier Earths vain delights and make their full carier At Heav'ns eternall joyes stop stop thy Courser there There shall thy soul possesse uncarefull treasure There shalt thou swim in never-sading pleasure And blaze in honour farre above the frowns of Caesar Lord if my hoâ—…e dare let her anchor fall On thee the chiefest Good no need to call For earths inferiour trash Thou thou art All in All S. AUGUST Soliloqu cap. 13. I follow this thing I pursue that but am filled with nothing But when I found thee who aâ—…t that immutable individed and onely good in my self what I obtained I wanted not for what I obtained not I grieved not with wâ—…at I was possest 〈◊〉 whole desire was 〈◊〉 S. BERN. Ser. 9. sup beati qui habent c. Let others pâ—…etend merit let him bâ—…ag of the burden of the day let him boast of his Sabbath fasts and let him glory that 〈◊〉 is not as other men but for me it is good to cleaâ—…e unto the Lord and to put my trust in my Lord God EPG 13. Let Boâ—…eas blasts and Nepâ—…unes waves be joyn'd Thy Eolus commands the waves the wind Fear not the rocks or worlds imperious waves Thou climbst a rock my soul a rock that saves XIV CANTICLES 2. 3. I sat under his shadow with great delight and his fruit was sweet to my tast 1 LOok how the sheep whose rambling steps do stray From the safe blessing of her Shepherds eyes Estsoon becomes the unprotected prey To the wing'd squadron of beleagring slies Where swelired with the scorching beams of day She frisks from bush to brake and wildly flies From her own self ev'n of her self afraid She shrouds her troubled brows in ev'ry glade And craves the mercy of the soft removing shade 2 Ev'n so my wand'ring Soul that hath digrest From her great Shepherd is the hourely prey Of all my sinnes These vultures in my breast Gripe my Promethean heart both night and day I hunt from place to place but sind no rest I know not where to go nor where to stay The eye of vengeance burns her flames invade My swelt'ring soul My soul hath oft assaid But she can find no shrowd but she can feel no shade 3 I sought the shades of Mitth to wear away My slow-pac'd hours of soul-consuming grief I search'd the shades of sleep to ease my day Of griping sorrows with a nights reprief I sought the shades of death thought there t' allay My finall torments with a full relief But mirth nor sleep nor death can hide my houres In the false shades of their deceitfull bowrs The first distracts the next disturbs the last devours 4 Where shall I 〈◊〉 To whom shall I apply 〈◊〉 Are there no streams where a faint soul may wade Thy Godhead JESUS are the flames that fry me Hath thy All-glorious Deity never a shade Where I may sit and vengeance never eye me Where I might sit refresht or 〈◊〉 Is there no comfort Is there no resection Is there no cover that will give protection T' a fainting soul the subject of thy wraths 〈◊〉 5 Look up my soul advance the lowly stature Of thy sad thoughts advance thy humble eye See here 's a shadow found The humane nature Is made the Umbella to the Deity To catch the Sun-beams of thy just Creatour Beneath this covert thou maist safely lie 〈◊〉 thine eyes to climbe this fruitfull tree As quick Zacheus did and thou shalt see A cloud of dying flesh betwixt those beams and thee GUILL in cap. 2. Cant. Who can indure the 〈◊〉 rayes of the Sunne of Justice Who shall not be consumed by his beams Therefore the Sun of Justice took flesh that through the conjunction of that Sun and this humane body a shadow may be made S. AUGUST Med. cap. 37. Lord let my soul flee from the scorching thoughts of the world under the covert of thy wings that being resreshed by the moderation of thy shadow she may sing merrily In peace will I lay me down and rest 〈◊〉 14. Ah treach'rous soul would not thy pleasures give That Lord which made thee living leave to
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
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
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