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A19902 The holy roode, or Christs crosse containing Christ crucified, described in speaking-picture. / By Iohn Dauies. Davies, John, 1565?-1618. 1609 (1609) STC 6330; ESTC S105199 43,894 80

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loe he faints with trauell sore His corp'rall powres annihilated quite With Paines incursions loe yeeld now out-right Now at a Stand He staies yet hardly stands For bloodlesse breathlesse powrelesse is his Body Now faints that Pow'r that Heau'n and Earth commands His Body bloodlesse all and yet all bloody Drawne out by boyst'rous Blowes sanguinolent Which make him stand with Body double bent O see my Soule ah cast thy carefull Eie Vpon this Miracle-surmounting Wonder The Body of thy God is wrencht awry And double bow'd this massie Burden vnder Is He made crooked that was euer streight He is so made but made so most vnright Ah see how his most holy Hand relies Vpon his knees to vnder-prop his Charge Now Simon-Cyrene help or els he dies The Crosse hath broke his Backe it is too large Then take It off lest Malice be preuented And He die yer fell Furie be contented Weepe Daughters of Ierusalem amaine Here wash his wearie Body with your Teares Though He in Loue doth will you them refraine Yet sith He for your Loue this Burden beares Help with your sorrow to condole his griefe For Mates in Meane yeeld Miserie reliefe Weep Ioy and Mirth although it crosse your kind To see your kind Lord thus vnkindly Crost Crost all in all in Life Death Body Mind But crost least in his Crosse that crost him most For that though eruell most did him relieue Sith it did end the Deaths that Life did giue It 's mercie the condemned straight to rid Out of the paines to which condemn'd they be Christs cursed Crosse then shew this mercie did For which ere since it 's call'd a blessed Tree Where Paine it selfe doth pittie more than Men Who will not pittie there the Pained then It 's sed the longer that the world doth weare The worse It is the last Daies are the worst But these last Times though bad doe nothing beare That can so martyr ought that Nature nurst And did not Truth it selfe the same avow Who would beleeue this Tragedie were true Then who 's a Particle of highest Pow're That will not weepe to see It brought so low What Eies so Gorgoniz'd that can endure To see the All-vpholder forc'd to bow Then sith Hee 's bow'd that canopi'd the skie Let Earth in center of her Center lie Dismount your tow'ring Thoughts aspiring Minds Vnplume their wings in flight pennipotent Sith Hee that flees on wings of swiftest Winds And with Heau'ns Monarch is equipolent Deignes to detrude His Super-excellence So low to checke base Earths magnificence O thou that back'st the Sun-bright Cherubins And gallop'st ore the glitt'ring Lampes of Heau'n Behold thy Sonne sole Lord of Seraphins Humbled to Earth nay with the Earth made eu'n O let his deiect highest Lowlinesse Our pride and thy fell plagues for pride suppresse Remount vs by His fall from whence we fell He 's fall'n in 't hands of Synne of Griefes the Ground Those selfe same Hands threw vs from Heau'n to Hell Yet by 's hard fall O let vs backe rebound And for we are the Mammothrepts of Sinne Crosse vs with Christ to weane our ioyes therein Vpon this Stand of Christ still could I stand To view with Pitties Eies His Wondrous plight My Muse is g●auell'd here in Silos Sand And all profunditie orewhelmes Her Spright That Weakenesse so should crosse th' Almighties Will As prest to goe yet opprest standeth still NOw let a sacred Trance transport thy Spirit O Man ●o that vnholy-holy Mount Christ-crosse supporting Mount where He did merit By bitter death from death thy Lifes remount Mount-Tabor All will mount to see his glorie But few his griefe will mount Mount Caluarie There see ah see though torture-tyred quight How He weake Worme creeps vp the Hill in Haste Yet lo the ruthlesse Iewes with maine and might Beyond His might do lugge him to His last As doubting feeble Flesh would faint and die To crosse their Crosse-intended crueltie Fell Enuie dies with Death but Malice liues In Life and Death of those shee seekes to bite The death of whom her halfe dead oft reuiues Yet grieues that Death hath freed them from her spight Then Malice doth gainst Mercie most rebell For shee her foes pursues past Death and Hell When Ionathan all fearelesse scal'd the Rockes Where charg'd he was with troupes of Philistines His Man him equall'd in sustaining knocks Then loe our Ionathan charg'd with our sinnes Now climes vp Caluerie to foyle our fone And shall we cowards leaue him there alone When Sauls bold Squire had seene his Lord to fall Vpon his sword he forth with did the same And rather chose death with his Generall Than spare his life to die with liuing shame Then sith our Saule falles on his Iustice Sword For vs wee die should like wise for our Lord. Now haue they scal'd this mestiue Mountaine top Ore-topt with dead mens Tops and fleshlesse Shins A grim aspect but here with ioy they hop Sith here their Plaies Catastrophe begins Among Deaths Tropheies th'Engine of his Death Is laid along the Dead-Skull-paued Earth See see my Soule ah harke how It doth cracke The Hand of Out-rage that deglutinates His Vesture glu'd with gore-blood to his Backe Which his enfestered Sores exulcerates Ah ●●e a God! or rather Graue God knowes For now more like a Graue than God he showes There stands He shaking in a Feauer-fit While the cold Aire his Wounds confrigerates Where on some cold Stone faint Hee 's saine to sit Which to it selfe his Sores conglutinates The while his Tort'rers make the Morteffe ready To hold the Crosse that must sustaine him steedie Which beeing done see how their Teeth they grinde And rudely rend not raise him from that Stone There sticke the Cataplasmaes still behinde As proofs how they doe part this Holy-One They beare him to the Crosse but so they beare him As in their portage they doe rather teare him See now thereon how they long-straught him stretch And first one Hand fast to the same they naile Meane while hard by doth stand a ruthlesse Wretch That gainst this Lambe with open mouth doth raile Alas the while what dolor is He in Ah now eu'n now sweet Christ thy woes begin There with one Hand nail'd to the Tree he lies Hand-fasted so to Dolors heaui'st Hand The while his foes protract their Tyrranies That so his Crosse might still lie at a Stand Who fretat Time that fled they thought too fast And past in pittie from the pittie past Yet that no Time might scape without offence They fill his Eares with Blasphemies the while The while Spight studies so to plague his sense That ceaslesse plagues Times pittie might beguile While Heminds nothing but their onely good And freely bleeds to saue them with his blood His holy Heart doth ake more for their sinne Than for the Torments which they make it prooue Who opes his Heart to take his Plaguers in Till he Gods plagues by Plagues from them remooue
desire Those glitt'ring Sunnes his bright transpiercing eies On Peters eies as on two Fountaines shine By whose attractiue vertue Dropsarise Then downe distill in showres of Angels wine Who with heau'ns hoast therefore their tongues imploy To praise their God in hymnes starke drunke with ioy VVho cannot loue to thinke on loue so high That loues in Mercie Iustice Obiects hate Yea loues a Man that doth that loue defie VVho cannot die for such loue liues too late Let neuer Adams sonnes through Eaues offence To God and Nature vse such violence This hellish Night beeing ended then suppose This heau'nly Day-starreled to Plutos court Pilats I would say but respect of woes He there endur'd made true and false report Yet did this Comet cleare make Pilate pause Ere doom'd him as contagious by the lawes In the diuine sweet features of his face That might an heart of steele relent with ruth Pilate no doubt beheld a world of grace And well perceiu'd his Innocence and Truth Yet must he die doe Pilate what he can And for his Iudge that Monster is the Man To doome to death Rights wrongers is but right Although we wrongfully doe deeme them so That 's wronging Right as Men that haue no sight In that which righteous God alone doth kno But when the Conscience cries the doome is wrong The tongue pronounceth Hell confound that Tongue Dismist by Pilate see thy most iust Iudge From this Iudge most vniust led to a King Much more vniust loe how Hee 's forc'd to trudge Through thicke and thin harke how their clamors ring About his Eares and see the people flocke To see whereat to wonder gaze and mocke To Herod come that long had long'd to see him See now as if some Iuggler he had bin That would shew tricks to all men that would fee him How he prouokes Him some trick to begin But for He silent stands and thwarts his mind He holds Him but a Foole and foole vnkind Oye great Princes little doe ye know What wrong you doe vnto your high estate Tinsult through pompous pride on States below And thinke all Fooles not frolickt with like Fate Ye are no Gods and therefore know ye not Whom ye abuse and what may be your Lot This Foole wise foole holds Him full wise a foole And on the Mantle must that fooles doth fit He learn'd his wisdome in grosse Follies schoole But Wisdome on her Throne in Christ doth sit One seem'd not was the other was not seem'd Yet seem'd a God indeed though Man was deem'd He man was deem'd indeed that stird vp strife And crost the course the way ward world still runnes Life was accus'd with deadly sinne in life God was a Diuell deem'd by Sathans sonnes A Diuell deem'd or Man that had a Diuell But such a Man is worse or full as euill But Wrong that wrencheth eu'ry right awry And doth her selfe her selfe oft contradict That Supposition now doth flat denie And for a foole hee 's tane and nam'd and nickt Had he a Diuell bin or they as wise As Diuels be more smooth had bin their lies Here Wisdome that baptizeth with his Sp'rit All godly wise is baptiz'd for a foole Their angers glowing heat with this despight They thinke in red-hot raging hate to coole If his loue lik'd the foole that fooles detest For vs poore fooles he lik'd that he lou'd least Olet yea let weake Humane-wisdome vaile Her Peacoks plumes and make swift wing from Fame By this Example let her courage quaile And haue no heart to hurt her Honors shame If he whom Angels praise and Heau'ns adore Endure such shame let Earth seeke fame no more He was accus'd of what not so 't were euill Glutton Wine-bibber loath'd Samaritan Dam'd sinners coapesmate one that had a diuell Soule-slaying Schismaticke nor God nor Man But Hatreds Hydra bred in Stygian Poole And to conclude all clos'd all with the Foole. O had I Art to satisfie Desire That would with Words throwe downe Mans pride to hell That would past Heauen if it could aspire And makes the Bulke with ranke ambition swell I would vpon this Ground set such a Straine As should surmount the reach of Voyce or Braine Meekenesse looke on thy selfe and blush for shame To see thy selfe thy selfe surpassed so Humilitie low low stoop thy high fame Thou art surmounted farre farre God doth kno Thou boundlesse flood of Vertues confluence Thy bounds in him haue endlesse residence Looke Glorie on thy Lord thy God behold Inuested with Contempts derided coat Yet see what constant Grace his face doth hold O earth fraile earth thy Props strong patience note And neuer lift thy selfe thy selfe aboue To loue thy selfe vnlesse this Lord to loue See see how he in midst of all Extreames The proper Place where Vertue is confi'nd Though mad Misrule his name with shame blasphemes Yet his rare patience passeth humane kind Which well be wraies this Man is more than man That loues for hate and bl●st when Spight did ban How mute was he among so many lies Lowd lies God wot braid out by his Accusers How still meeke Lambe among so many cries Offowle mouth'd hounds his hunters and abusers In few he show'd so many Guifts of Grace That men might cleerely see God in his face God in his face for mong the sonnes of men Was not a fairer or Forme more diuine The Paragon of Beau●ie was he then Which in his sacred shape did brightly shine For Beautie was constraind her selfe t' excell When shee him made faire without Parralell Yet could not so great grace Grace great as God Infus'd in all his parts protect this Man From the most roguish Whip and slauish Rod But he must brooke them both doe what he can And yet he did what none but God could doe Which he they sed did like a diuell too But what will not Spight say to worke her spight Against what Good soere that thwarts her will Shee 'l call the brightest Day the darkest Night And God a Diuell Good the cause of Ill For if her Conscience once be cauteriz'd Shee is a very Fiend and worse aduiz'd For Rage is mad and cares not what shee doth And Spight enraged cares lesse what shee saies Then what 's to be expected from them both But Words and Deeds that God and Man dispraise Though God raignes ouer All by Natures right Yet is He subiect to Mans hate and spight The Heauens Sou'raigne is thus subiect made To Hels damn'd vassals vilest villanie Yet Faith and Reason discreet Soules persuade That Hell is subiect to Heau'ns Deitie Then by this short account which yet is right Hell is not halfe so bad as Hate and Spight Yet though they befarre worse than what is worst They onely fill the Iewes hard hollow hearts From whose aboundance their tongues most accurst Doe speake and so are mou'd their other parts If Hate and Spight be curst Hearts onely mouers They must be Murders spightfull-hatefull louers These spights thus past