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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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golden Causie and a Road That 's leuell pleasant that is euen and broad But leads at length to death and endlesse griefe To torments and to paines without reliefe Iustice feares none but maketh all afraid And then falls hardest when 't is most delaid But thou reply'st Thy sinnes are daily great Yet thou sitt'st vncontrold vpon thy seat Thy wheat doth flourish and thy barnes doe thriue Thy sheepe encrease thy sonnes are all aliue And thou art buxom and hast nothing scant Finding no want of any thing but want Whil'st others whō the squint-e'yd world counts holy Sit sadly drooping in a melancholy With brow deiected and downe-hanging head Or take of almes or poorly beg their bread But Young man know there is a Day of doome The feast is good vntill the reck'ning come The time runnes fastest where is least regard The stone that 's long in falling falleth hard There is a Day a dying Day thou foole When all thy laughter shall be turn'd to Doole Thy roabes to tort'ring plagues and fell tormenting Thy whoops of Ioy to howles of sad lamenting Thy tongue shall yell and yawle and neuer stop And wish a world to giue for one poore drop To flatter thine intolerable paine The wealth of Pluto could not then obtaine A minutes freedome from that hellish rout Whose fire burnes and neuer goeth out Nor house nor land nor measur'd heapes of wealth Can render to a dying man his health Our life on earth is like a thrid of flax That all may touch and being toucht it cracks ¶ As when an Archer shooteth for his sport Sometimes his shaft is gone sometime 't is short Sometimes o' th' left hand wide sometimes o' th' right At last through often triall hits the White So Death sometimes with her vncertaine Rouer Hits our Superiours and so shootes ouer Sometimes for change she strikes the meaner sort Strikes our inferiours and then comes short Sometimes vpon the left hand wide she goes And so still wounding some she strikes our foes And sometimes wide vpon the right hand wends There with impartiall shafts she strikes our friends At length through often triall hits the White And so strikes vs into Eternall night ¶ Death is a Kalender compos'd by Fate Concerning all men neuer out of Date Her dayes Dominicall are writ in blood She shewes more bad dayes then she sheweth good She tells when dayes and months and termes expire And shewes thee strange aspects of fearefull fire ¶ Death is a Pursiuant with Eagles wings That knocks at poore mens dores and gates of Kings Worldling beware for lo Death sculks behind thee And as she leaues thee so will Iudgement finde thee THE ARGVMENT Within the bowels of the Fish Ionah laments in great anguish God heard his pray'r at whose command The Fish disgorg'd him on the Land Sect. 7. THen Ionah turn'd his face to heau'n and pray'd VVithin the bowels of the VVhale and sayd I cry'd out of my balefull misery Vnto the Lord and he hath heard my cry From out the paunch of hell I made a noyse And thou hast answer'd me and heard my voyce Into the Deepes and bottome thou hast throwne me Thy Surges and thy VVaues haue past vpon me Then Lord said I from out thy glorious sight I am reiected and forsaken quite Nath'lesse while these my wretched eyes remaine Vnto thy Temple will I looke againe The boyst'rous waters compasse me about My body threats to let her pris'ner out The boundlesse depth enclos'd me almost dead The weedes were wrapt about my fainting head I liu'd on earth reiected at thine hand And a perpetuall pris'ner in the Land Yet thou wilt cause my life t' ascend at length From out this pit O Lord my God my Strength When as my soule was ouer-whelm'd and faint I had recourse to thee did thee acquaint With the condition of my wofull case My cry came to thee in thine holy Place Whoso to Vanities themselues betake Renounce thy mercies and thy loue forsake To thee I 'le sacrifice in endlesse dayes With voyce of thanks and euer-sounding praise I 'le pay my vowes for all the world records With one consent Saluation is the Lords So God whose Word 's a deed whose Breath's a law Whose iust command implies a dreadfull awe Whose Word prepar'd a Whale vpon the Deepe To tend and waite for Iona's fall and keepe His out-cast body safe and soule secure This very God whose mercy must endure When heau'n and earth and sea and all things faile Disclos'd his purpose and bespake the Whale To redeliuer Ionah to his hand Whereat the Whale disgorg'd him on the Land Meditatio septimu I Well record a holy Father sayes He teaches to denie that faintly prayes The suit surceases when desire failes But whoso prayes with feruencie preuailes For Pray'rs the key that opens heauen gate And findes admittance whether earl ' or late It forces audience it vnlocks the eare Of heau'nly God though deafe it makes him heare Vpon a time Babel the Worlds faire Queene Made drunke with choller and enrag'd with Spleene Through fell Disdaine derraigned Warre ' gainst them That tender Homage to Ierusalem A Mayden fight it was yet they were strong As men of Warre The Battaile lasted long Much bloud was shed and spilt on either side That all the ground with purple gore was dyde In fine a Souldier of Ierusalem Charissa hight the Almner of the Realme Chill'd with a Feuer and vnapt to fight Into Iustitia's Castle tooke her flight Whereat great Babels Queene commanded all To lay their siege against the Castle wall But poore Tymissa not with warre acquainted Fearing Charissa's death fell downe and fainted Dauntlesse Prudentia rear'd her from the ground VVhere she lay pale and sencelesse in swound She rubb'd her temples lost in swouny shade And gaue her water that Fidissa made And said Cheare vp deare Sister though our foe Hath ta'ne vs Captiues and inthrall'd vs so We haue a King puissant and of might Will see vs take no wrong and doe vs right If we possesse him with our sad complaint Cheare vp wee 'l send to him and him acquaint Timissa new awak'd from swound replies Our Castle is begirt with enemies And clouds of armed men besiege our walls Then suer Death or worse then Death befalls To her who ere she be that stirres a foote Or dares attempt this place to fally out Alas what hope haue we to finde reliefe And want the meanes that may diuulge our griefe Within that place a iolly Matron won'd With firie lookes and drawen-sword in hond Her eyes with age were waxen wond'rous dim With hoary locks and visage sterne and grim Her name Iustitia hight to her they make Their moane who well aduis'd them thus bespake Faire Maydens well I wot y' are ill bedight And rue the suffrance of your wofull plight But Pitty 's fond alone
full of teares To weepe in secret for her sinnes Thine eares Shall heare such things wil make thine eyes run ouer Thine eyes shall smart with what they shall discouer Spend not in priuate those thy zealous drops But hew and hacke spare neither trunke nor lops Make heauen earth rebound whē thou discharges Plead not like Paul but roare like Boanarges Let not the beauty of the buildings bleare thee Nor let the terrours of the Rampiers feare thee Let no man bribe thy fist I well aduise thee Nor foule meanes force thee nor let faire entice thee Ramme vp thine eares Thy heart of stone shall bee Be deafe to them as they are deafe to thee Goe cry against it If they aske thee Why Say God of heauen commanded thee to cry In stead of prayers and duties they should doe me Behold their wickednesse is mounted to me The fatnesse of their fornication fryes On coales of raging lust and vpward flies And makes me sicke I heare the mournfull grones And heauy sighs of such whose aking bones Th' oppressor grindes Alas their grones implore me Their pray'rs and their oppressions come before me Behold my children they haue slaine and kill'd And bath'd their hands within the blood they spill'd The steame of guiltlesse blood makes suit vnto me The voice of many bloods is mounted to me The vile prophaner of my sacred Names He teares my titles and mine honour maimes Makes Reth'rick of an oath sweares and forsweares Recks not my Mercy nor my Iudgement feares They eat they drink they sleepe they tyre the Day In wanton dalliance and delightfull play Heauens winged Herald Ionas vp and goe To mighty Niniueh Denounce my woe Aduance thy voice and when thou hast aduanc't it Spare Shrub nor Cedar but cry out against it I come my Selfe with plagues Goe thou afore me For all their wickednesse is come before me Apolog. Authoris IT was my morning Muse And for her sake I thus apply my selfe to vndertake This serious taske A taske for Doctors Muse To spend vpon Then let me pleade excuse For as good Physicke will not bate his force And being well appli'd prooue ne're the worse Though giuē by hands that could nor reade nor write That skill not how nor need not know t'apply't So this perchance may make another keene Though I and it be blunt as whetstones beene Applicatio TO thee Malfido now I turne my Quill That God is still that God and will be still The painfull Pastors take vp Iona's roome And thou the Niniuite to whom they come Meditatio prima HOw great 's the loue of God vnto his creature Or is his Wisedome or his Mercy greater I know not whether O th' exceeding loue Of highest God! that from his Throne aboue Will send the brightnesse of his Grace to those That grope in Darknesse and his Grace oppose He helpes prouides inspires and freely giues As pleas'd to see vs rauell out our liues He giues vs from the heape He measures not Nor deales like Manna each his stinted lot But daily sends the Doctors of his Spouse With such like oyle as from the Widowes cruse Issued forth in fulnesse without wasting Where plenty may be had yet plenty lasting I there is care in heauen and heauenly sprights That guides the world guards poore mortall wights There is else were the miserable state Of Man more wretched and vnfortunate Than sauage beasts But O th' abounding loue Of highest God! whose Angels from aboue Dismount the Towre of Blisse fly to and fro Assisting wretched man their deadly foe What thing is Man that Gods regard is such Or why should he loue retchlesse Man so much Why what are men But quicken'd lumps of earth A feast for wormes A bubble full of mirth A looking-glasse for griefe A flash A minnit A painted Toombe with putrifaction in it A mappe of Death A burthen of a song A winters Dust A worme of fiue foot long Begot in sinne In darknesse nourisht Borne In sorrow Naked Shiftlesse and forlorne His first voice heard is crying for reliefe Alas He comes into a world of griefe His Age is sinfull and his Youth is vaine His life 's a punishment his Death 's a paine His life 's an howre of Ioy a world of Sorrow His death 's a winters night that findes no morrow Mans life's an Houreglasse which being run Concludes that houre of Ioy and so is dun ¶ Ionah must goe Nor is this charge alone To Ionah giuen but giuen to euery one You Magistrates arise and take delight In dealing Iustice and maintaining right There lies your Nineueh Merchants arise Away and to your Ships and Merchandise Artificers arise and ply your shops And worke your trade and eate your meat with drops Paul to thy Tents and Peter to thy Net And all must goe that way which God hath set ¶ Grant liefest Lord for our Deare Borrow sake Thy loue in sending to vs neuer slake Encrease succession in thy Prophets liew For loe thy Haruest's great and Workmen few THE ARGVMENT But Ionah toward Tharsis went A Tempest doth his course preuent The Mariners are sore opprest While Ionah sleepes and takes his rest Sect. 2 BVt Ionah thus bethought The City's great And mighty Ashur stands with deadly threat Their hearts are hardned that they cannot heare Will greene wood burne when so vnapt's the seire Strange is the charge Shall I goe to a place Vnknowne and forraine Aye me hard 's the case That righteous Isr'el must be thus neglected When Miscreants and Gentiles are respected How might I hope my words shall there succeed Which thriue not with the flocke I daily feed Moreo're I weet the Lord is wondrous kind And slow to wrath and apt to change his mind Vpon the least repentance Then shall I Be deem'd as false and shame my Prophesie O heauie burthen of a doubtfull mind Where shall I goe or which way shall I wind My heart like Ianus looketh to and fro My Credit bids me Stay my God bids Goe If Goe my labour 's lost my shame 's at hand If Stay Lord I transgresse my Lords command If goe from bad estate to worse I fall If stay I slide from bad to worst of all My God bids goe my credit bids me stay My guilty feare bids fly another way So Ionah straight arose himselfe bedight With fit acoutrements for hasty flight In stead of staffe he tooke a Shipmans weed In stead of going loe he flies with speed Like as a Hawke that ouermatcht with might Doing sad penance for th' vnequall fight Answ'ring the Faulkners second shout does flee From fist turnes tayle to Fowle and takes a tree So Ionah baulks the place where he was sent To Nineueh and downe to Iaffa went He sought enquired and at last he found A welcome Ship that was to Tharsis bound Where he may fly the presence of the Lord He makes no stay but straightway goes aboord His hasty